


with friends like these. . .

by orphan_account



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rimming, Roleplay, awkward sakuma is awkward, everyone mocks sakuma like once per chapter, miyoshi is a tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7166477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sooo," Hatano drawls, rocking back and forth on his heels, "have you two banged yet?"</p><p>--</p><p>in which Hatano is a little shit and simultaneously makes Miyoshi and Sakuma's sex life a lot more interesting</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. there's one way to get a tip around here

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably so ooc guys but I couldn't contain it, there isn't enough fic here to satisfy my cravings I'm sorry OTL

“Soo,” Hatano drawls, rocking back and forth on his heels, “have you two banged yet?”

 

If Sakuma had been holding a large stack of books, he would have dropped them at his feet and fell over the pile in a heap of embarrassed limbs. But Sakuma has long placed the books on their respective shelves like the diligent, responsible – or as Hatano so quaintly puts it ‘total ass-kisser’ – employee that he is. So he instead makes a noise that sounds like he forgot how to breathe.

 

Hatano hums. “I’ll take that as a no.”

 

“It isn’t any of your business, for one thing. Second, that is _really_ unprofessional of you to even ask me in the first place,” Sakuma scolds. Hatano doesn’t seem like he’s sorry. Matter of fact, the amusement in his eyes is unmistakable. This conversation isn’t going to end well.

 

“How come when it comes to sex, you’re always so _prudish_? You’re dating Miyoshi, for crying out loud,” Hatano proclaims. Sakuma scoffs.

 

“I’m not being prudish by blathering about our sex life. And I hope you’re not implying Miyoshi is some sort of sexual deviant.”

 

“Sexual deviant. That’s a big phrase for you, Sakuma-san.”

 

Sakuma would never admit it out loud, but Hatano can be such a little shit.

 

Hatano goes back to arranging the shelves of manga volumes. “I’m just saying. Miyoshi is definitely not your type. Like, at all.”

 

“Thanks for your opinion, Hatano,” Sakuma says dryly.

 

“Like, me and Tazaki were talking about it and wondering how can Miyoshi go for someone like _you_. I mean, you’re physically fit and I’d be lying if I say you weren’t nice to look at. But you're so _boring_. You think that a fun night out is a rousing game of _shogi_.”

 

“Is there any point to this conversation or are you just going to spend your shift heckling me?” Sakuma asks. There’s an unspoken ‘ _like always_ ’ that occurs between them as Hatano’s lips quirk upwards into a grin.

 

“I just find it amusing, that’s all. I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, Sakuma-san,” Hatano says with a coy smile. Sakuma nods his head, satisfied that this annoying and embarrassing conversation is over and done with.

 

. . .Except that his pride is _not_ satisfied that this annoying and embarrassing conversation is over and done with. Literally five seconds later, Sakuma opens his mouth and his mind can’t tell his stupid lips to stop moving.

 

“We have a healthy love life. I think our relationship is going fine.”

 

“I bet you do think that,” Hatano muses. This time, he truly sounds like he doesn’t care anymore since he’s had his fun. Sakuma thinks that he should stop talking about it already. He doesn’t.

 

“Has Miyoshi said anything to you about us?”

 

“No. We all know he loves you for whatever strange reason, Sakuma-san. No need to be insecure about your performance in bed.”

 

“I am _not_ insecure about. . . _that_.” Oh god, _why can’t he shut up?!_

Hatano snorts. “You military men are all the same. Always have to prove your masculinity somehow. I really don’t care if you’re totally vanilla in bed. If Miyoshi is into that, whatever.”

 

That statement pisses Sakuma off way more than it should. Hatano is five years younger than him, _why_ is he letting this stupid kid egg him on like this?! Sakuma turns to grab a few cookbooks and heave them into his arms.

 

“I’m going to. . .work.”

 

“Have fun,” Hatano sing-songs with a little smile.

 

It’s official, Sakuma thinks as he walks away carrying heavy books filled with recipes only his grandmother would find appetizing, Hatano is going to give him a hernia.

* * *

 

Sakuma broods about his relationship with Miyoshi long after he clocks out of work, takes the train home, gets into his sweats and listen to Miyoshi talk shit about his co-workers over dinner. He doesn’t _think_ they’re sex life is boring. What does Hatano even think sex is supposed to be? Mindless fucking like animals anywhere and everywhere? How is that appealing? Wouldn’t it be nicer to just dim the lights, have some music playing in the background and make love in a decent bed? It’s intimate, like sex _should_ be.

 

His mind is still angry at himself for still being so worked up over it. As far as he knows, Hatano has yet to hold a steady relationship longer than a few weeks. What the hell does he know about intimacy?

 

In the middle of brooding and musing and letting Miyoshi feed him popcorn as they watch some dramas saved on the DVR and lounging on the couch, he feels Miyoshi shift against his chest and he glances down into his fox-like eyes.

 

“You’re thinking so hard, you’re distracting me from my show,” Miyoshi complains with that little smirk of his. Sakuma sputters and blushes, before Miyoshi scoops up another handful of popcorn and raises it to Sakuma’s mouth to eat. He does, suckling a bit of butter from Miyoshi’s ring finger and shivers when Miyoshi drags his finger over his lower lip. “Something happen at work?” he inquires and Sakuma shakes his head.

 

“It’s nothing, really,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of Miyoshi’s hip. Miyoshi hums and scoops up some popcorn for himself, turning his attention back to his dramas and the whiny actress that he always complains about.

 

Sakuma rubs little circles into Miyoshi’s hip bone, moving his eyes along the lithe form of Miyoshi’s body sprawled over his lap. Miyoshi is definitely easy on the eyes. Smooth hair that feels great to run your fingers through. A nice body to hold against. His personality could use a little (a lot) of work, but Sakuma can’t picture him being any other way. And those _eyes_ , they just _do_ something to Sakuma that he can’t even think straight and he just wants to kiss Miyoshi all over-

 

“Are you trying to instigate something, Sakuma-san?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma glances down at him. He then looks at his hand that has somehow wandered into Miyoshi’s pajama pants, his fingertips teasing at the hem of Miyoshi’s boxer briefs.

 

“. . .Oh,” Sakuma says, dumbfounded.

 

“And here I always thought you weren’t a ‘Netflix and chill’ kind of guy,” Miyoshi comments. Sakuma withdraws his hand from Miyoshi’s pajama pants, but Miyoshi grabs hold of Sakuma’s wrist. “I wasn’t complaining,” he says and moves the popcorn to the coffee table, getting up to swing a leg over Sakuma’s lap and straddle him.

 

The dramas are totally forgotten about as Miyoshi shifts his hips in that angle that makes Sakuma jerk on the couch and drape slim arms around Sakuma’s broad shoulders. Miyoshi leans forward and buries his face in the nape of Sakuma’s neck, licking and biting at Sakuma’s pulse point and enjoying how he’s able to draw choked gasps and get a man as large and stone faced as Sakuma to writhe and helplessly paw at his hips.

 

Miyoshi tangles a hand in Sakuma’s hair and pulls hard, exposing more of Sakuma’s neck to suck and tease with his tongue. Sakuma’s hands finally manage to get a grip of Miyoshi’s hips and holds him steady.

 

“Miyoshi-“ he pauses to gasp as Miyoshi’s teeth dig into his clavicle as he pulls on Sakuma’s ‘too-tight-for-his-own-good-shirt’. “Miyoshi, what do you think about our sex life?”

 

Miyoshi pulls away and stares at Sakuma with a look of complete confusion. This is actually pretty rare; Sakuma last remembers seeing this look about three years ago at a barbeque where Tazaki preformed a trick that was so amazingly stupid, it took Miyoshi a few hours to comprehend how dumb it was. He should take a picture while it lasts.

 

“What are you talking about?” Miyoshi finally responds.

 

“I. . .do you think that. . .it’s good?”

 

“Well I mean, I’m in your lap sucking on your neck like I’m Dracula so I’m _pretty_ sure I want to have sex with you,” Miyoshi says dryly and Sakuma stammers.

 

“I _mean_. . .I don’t know, do you think it’s. . .boring?”

 

Miyoshi sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Sakuma wants to run his own hands through Miyoshi’s hair. It’s so soft, they were doing so well and he’s starting to feel his dick softening. _Why did he open his stupid mouth again?!_ “I don’t know, it’s okay?”

 

“Just okay?”

 

“What do you want me to say? Where is any of this coming from anyways?” Miyoshi asks. He slides off of Sakuma and Sakuma groans in his head. He so fucked this up.

 

“Just. . .I wanted your input on our relationship.”

 

“Should I fill out a survey card for you?”

 

Sakuma gives a dry laugh and runs his hand up Miyoshi’s leg. Miyoshi hums and watches as Sakuma’s hand moves up his thigh and pulls at his pajama pants. He helps by pushing himself up onto his elbows and Sakuma pulls Miyoshi’s pants off, throwing the clothing to the ground.

 

Miyoshi smiles and grabs Sakuma as much as he can, damn this sinfully tight shirt. He lies down, pulling Sakuma over him so he hovers above Miyoshi and goes back to marking up Sakuma’s neck with as many hickies as he can get away with. Sakuma moans, running his hands all over Miyoshi’s hips and up his shirt to his chest, them back down to let his fingers skirt over the softness of Miyoshi’s smooth thighs. He pulls away again and looks into Miyoshi’s eyes.

 

“Wait, hold on. Let me just-” Sakuma gets up and goes to the lights to dim them. He then moves to the kitchen cupboards and fumbles for the candles and some matches.

 

“You’re not digging out the candles, are you?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma looks over at the couch. Miyoshi is peering at him over the cushions, thoroughly unimpressed. Sakuma falters.

 

“. . .Well. . .yeah?”

 

“Can we just. . .forget about those tonight?”

 

“But it’s romantic.”

 

“You burn candles all the time, Sakuma. Are we going to move to the bedroom next?”

 

“Well. . .it’s bigger and we can wash the sheets afterwards. We can’t wash a _couch_.”

 

“Then you can just fuck me on the floor,” Miyoshi suggests without missing a beat. Sakuma blinks.

 

“But that’ll be uncomfortable for your back-”

 

“There _are_ other positions we could do, Sakuma.”

 

“But I like seeing your face when you-” Sakuma blinks, coughs loudly for a few seconds, stares at the crayon drawing Emma gifted him for his birthday a few months ago on the fridge, and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. Miyoshi – being the gifted ‘Sakuma-san whisperer’ – understands what his boyfriend is getting at. It doesn’t make him any less annoyed.

 

“I understand and all, but it always feel like there’s a. . . _routine_ with you. It’s starting to get a little bit boring-”

 

“So you _do_ think our sex life is boring,” Sakuma accuses. Oh god, Hatano was _right_. That little punk was _right_. Miyoshi throws his hands up in the air.

 

“ _No_ , I just. . .ugh whatever. I’m missing the show,” Miyoshi grumbles. Sakuma stares as Miyoshi turns his attention back to the screen and listens to Miyoshi passive-aggressively eating the popcorn. Sakuma places the candle he manages to find back into the cupboard and groans into his hands.

 

The feeling is gone and they go to bed after Megumi (or whatever the hell her name is) realizes that her sister isn’t dead and her mother is faking her coma. Or rather, Miyoshi goes to bed with a walk that screams ‘just sleep on the couch cause I don’t feel like bickering with you over something petty like how changing candle scents is going to make me feel any more excited about sex with you’.

 

Sakuma stays on the couch and stares at the ceiling, damning his big mouth and damning Hatano wherever he is.

 

* * *

 

“If you’re so worried about it, just do something to spice it up. Simple as that.”

 

Jitsui is really nice. Well, he still likes to poke fun at Sakuma’s expense and some of the things he says makes Sakuma _never_ want to get on Jitsui’s bad side, but he’s nice. He also doesn’t feel like Jitsui is much of a gossiper like Amari is. And he’s bound to give better advice than Fukumoto or Odagiri can.

 

Currently, Jitsui is pouring Sakuma a cup of coffee. Business is slow in the shop and Jitsui has time to listen to Sakuma and be entertained by his misery until something else more interesting comes along. Then he’ll have to beat it cause Jitsui doesn’t have time for Sakuma’s pity party. He’s trying to run a respectable business here.

 

“But _what?_ ” Sakuma asks, taking the cup offered to him and bringing it to his lips to sip. It’s blistering hot and Sakuma feels like his tongue is going to fall out of his mouth in a charred heap. It’s also extremely bitter; Sakuma sneaks in about ten sugar cubes when Jitsui isn’t looking.

 

“Well, what are you both into? Maybe you can incorporate it somehow into your activities.”

 

“. . .Well. . .he likes biting,” Sakuma admits in a quite mumble.

 

“That much is obvious,” Jitsui says and glances at Sakuma out of the corner of his eye. “You need to look into some foundation, Sakuma-san. That, or wear some turtleneck sweaters,” he says. Sakuma blinks, then quickly tugs his collar up high on his neck. An embarrassed flush creeps over his face; no wonder that old woman was staring at him funny when he went to the bank.

 

“How about any other kinks? Cosplay? Toys? S&M?”

 

“No, nothing like that.” Maybe he should change the subject, Sakuma’s not sure he wants to divulge something so personal like this. Jitsui is just as young as Hatano. What does he know anyways?

 

. . .Well, he _does_ have a boyfriend. . .

 

“Bondage is exciting. Especially with a little bit of role-play thrown in,” Jitsui suggests. “Like tying up your partner so they can’t move their hands or their legs, then blindfolding them and using a ball gag as they play the role of a helpless servant to their powerful master. Personally, I like to incorporate a little bit of wax play and clamps. That usually gets them _really_ squirming.”

 

. . . _Christ_.

 

“Uh, I don’t think. . .that suits us,” Sakuma puts as politely as possible. Jitsui hums and turns to Sakuma, reaching out to wrap fingers around his tie and yank him forward towards him. Sakuma braces himself against the counter as Jitsui cocks his head to the side.

 

“Eh? But wouldn’t you like the idea of Miyoshi-san taking control over you and you being completely submissive and obedient to all of his demands? It’s so attractive, witnessing helplessness and seeing someone so vulnerable in such an intimate setting.”

 

Sakuma just stammers out noises that sound like words to his ears.

 

The front door dings and both their heads turn. Jitsui smiles, his deathgrip on Sakuma’s tie not loosening.

 

“Oh, good morning darling,” he coos.

 

Jirou Gamou smiles and tips his hat, walking over to smile at Sakuma. “Morning, Sakuma-san. I hope you’re not trying to make a pass at my boyfriend,” he says with a tone that sounds half joking and half threatening. Jitsui finally releases Sakuma’s tie and turns to Gamou, smiling cutely and resting his chin in his hands.

 

“Eh? Are you jealous, darling?” Jitsui purrs and Gamou leans on the counter, his smile just as sickingly sweet.

 

“Well, we have already established that you’re mine and I don’t want to see you flirting with anyone else, _pumpkin_.”

 

“Eh? But I was just helping Sakuma-san with some love problems. You know how hopeless he can be, I thought a hands-on approach will get through to him faster. You understand, don’t you _sweetie?_ ”

 

“Sakuma-san’s a big boy. He can figure it out on his own. You don’t need to put your hands on anyone but me, _honey_.”

 

 _These terms of endearment are sounding more and more menacing_ , Sakuma thinks as a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. Also, Jitsui’s hands have somehow wound into Gamou’s shirt and is forcefully pulling him against the counter down to his eye level.

 

“So you want me to put my hands all over you like I did last night? We haven’t even given time for those scratches to heal yet, _baby_ ,” Jitsui coos and Gamou laughs.

 

“Maybe I’ll be the one to leave scratches and bruises all over your body tonight, _cupcake_.”

 

Gamou’s hands are now holding Jitsui by the neck, his thumbs forcefully squeezing at Jitsui’s windpipe. Sakuma’s head whirs around to the few patrons in the coffee shop; is _no one else_ seeing this happening?!

 

“That won’t be fun. I even bought you a new collar to try on, _lamb-chop_.”

 

“And I bought a riding crop that I want to put to use, _snookums_.”

 

Do they even care that Sakuma and four other strangers are in the shop right now? Are they doing this on purpose?? Jitsui gasps and smirks.

 

“I don’t think a riding crop is going to be enough punishment for me flirting,” Jitsui looks up at Gamou with lidded eyes, “ _Daddy_.”

 

Gamou all but _hurls_ himself over the counter, immediately clawing at Jitsui’s uniform and Jitsui stumbling backwards towards the storage closet. Sakuma throws his money on the counter for the coffee and runs like hell out of the café, vowing _never_ to go to Jitsui for advice ever again.

 

* * *

 

“. . .Cosplay?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma awkwardly nods his head. Miyoshi brings the pen he is using to complete his crossword puzzle – the Russian variant since the ones in the local newspapers are too simple - to his lips and nibbles on the cap, rolling his tongue around the tip. Sakuma feels his dick throb with want.

 

“. . .What would we cosplay as? We don’t even have the costumes or anything.”

 

“I don’t know. Use our imagination or something. We could be. . .spies?”

 

“But then why would we have sex if we’re supposed to be on a mission?”

 

“We could be undercover.”

 

“You shouldn’t be distracting me with your body if we’re supposed to be working, Sakuma-san. That’s very unprofessional,” Miyoshi scolds and Sakuma huffs. Miyoshi hums and turns the pen between his fingers. “You still have those swim trunks Kaminaga gave you.”

 

“Those prank ones?” Sakuma asks, feeling drained at the memory of Kaminaga’s gift of an extremely green pair of Speedos. Miyoshi nods his head.

 

“Put them on. And one of your muscle shirts too. I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

One awkward hour later filled with Sakuma trying to remember where he put the stupid Speedo at, putting on and staring at himself in the mirror as he tries to come up with some excuse to just forget about the whole thing and see about busting out a different scented candle, Sakuma finally walks into the living room.

 

To his surprise, Miyoshi has moved around most of the furniture and is now lounging in a beach chair with a pair of expensive sunglasses perched on his nose and a sunhat to keep him shaded from the fluorescent lightbulb above. Sakuma blinks, then shuffles over to Miyoshi, not sure how to begin this.

 

“. . .Uh. . .”

 

“You did a shitty job cleaning the pool,” Miyoshi spits and lowers his sunglasses to give a look filled with snobbish authority and ‘higher-than-thou’ status. Sakuma doesn’t even want to know why that look immediately sends a spark right to his dick and makes it twitch in these uncomfortably tight swim shorts.

 

“W-Well. . .I’m sorry about that sir-”

 

“What do you think my father pays you for? Just to sit around on your ass all day?” Miyoshi snaps and Sakuma grips his hands into tight fists. Okay, so he’s a pool boy and Miyoshi is some spoiled rich kid. . .what the hell is he supposed to say? He doesn’t know how Miyoshi managed to craft a character like this in only one hour, how is he supposed to react?

 

“I wasn’t just sitting around. I think I did a good job,” Sakuma says and Miyoshi scoffs.

 

“ _You_ think so? Well you’re not going to get paid _shit_.”

 

This is starting to become less sexy and more annoying. Sakuma understands that anyone can refuse to pay someone if they provided lousy service, but Sakuma never half-asses _anything_. If he said he did a good job, then he did a damn good job.

 

“You can’t say that to me. I did a good job. What are _you_ doing around here, huh?” Sakuma asks and Miyoshi stands up, poking Sakuma in his chest.

 

“It’s none of your business what I do. And I can say whatever I want to you. What are you going to do about it, huh?” Miyoshi asks, getting all up in Sakuma’s face. He smells so nice and his lips look so soft and god, Sakuma wants to kiss him and lick into his mouth and slowly run his tongue over every inch of Miyoshi’s skin-

 

Miyoshi snaps his fingers in front of Sakuma’s face obnoxiously. “Hello! Anyone there?!” he says loudly and Sakuma blinks.

 

“I’m going to. . .call your father.”

 

That clearly isn’t the response that Miyoshi is looking for since he gives Sakuma a look that says ‘ _really, that’s the best you can come up with?_ ’. Sakuma frowns and holds out his hands. Give him a bone here, come on!

 

Miyoshi sighs and looks down at the ground, then back at Sakuma and places hands on Sakuma’s hips. “Well, maybe I’ll give you something else instead. I think you’ll like it more than that stupid paycheck.”

 

Miyoshi presses his body into Sakuma and Sakuma can feel his cock press against Miyoshi’s hipbone. _Yes, **finally**. _ Sakuma grabs Miyoshi and tries to pull him into the bedroom, but Miyoshi pushes back. “What are you doing? I’m not paying you, put up a fight,” he whispers and Sakuma blinks.

 

“. . .But I’m fine with this.”

 

“No you’re not.”

 

“. . .I’m not?” What’s happening in Sakuma’s tiny swim trunks says otherwise.

 

Miyoshi rolls his eyes. “You’re a _worker_. You’re supposed to put up a little bit of a fight that the young, handsome, rich son is trying to seduce you out of getting a decent paycheck for your mediocre life,” Miyoshi explains. Why does Sakuma’s life have to be mediocre?

 

Sakuma blinks and then lowers his hands from Miyoshi’s hips. “Uh. . .no, we shouldn’t be doing this?” he asks more than states. Miyoshi slams Sakuma against the wall and the clock hanging falls to the ground and breaks. Sakuma just bought that thing too, it was on sale. Dammit.

 

Miyoshi ignores it. “You don’t want me telling my dad about the shitty job you did cleaning the pool, do you? He’s going to fire you and how will you find money to pay your rent for your crummy apartment?” Miyoshi asks. Why does Sakuma have to live in a crummy apartment?

 

Miyoshi shifts his hips against Sakuma and Sakuma bucks his hips forward. Miyoshi swats at them. “ _No_ ,” he whispers and then clears his throat. “Come on, I know you want me. I’ve seen you watching me,” he says and gently traces his fingertips against the outline of Sakuma’s dick. Sakuma shudders out a breath as Miyoshi kisses alongside Sakuma’s jaw.

 

Sakuma turns his head and meets Miyoshi’s lips halfway. He sucks on Miyoshi’s lower lip and licks into his mouth, tasting the cool mint and pink lemonade lip balm. Miyoshi pulls away and immediately sinks to his knees, Sakuma watching as Miyoshi kisses down Sakuma’s abs and nips at his hipbones. He takes his teeth and pulls at the tight swimwear, snapping it against Sakuma’s skin. Sakuma jumps and Miyoshi moves down to bite at the inner part of Sakuma’s muscular thighs.

 

Miyoshi brings a hand up and runs two fingers along the underside of Sakuma’s cock, squeezing his balls. Sakuma braces his hands against the wall, trying to grab for something as Miyoshi begins to suck a wet spot against Sakuma’s dick straining against the swimwear. Sakuma groans and breathes hard as Miyoshi pulls down Sakuma’s Speedo.

 

The material bunches at his thighs and his cock springs free, almost hitting Miyoshi in the eye. Miyoshi gasps and wraps slim fingers around Sakuma’s girth, giving it a few experimental tugs. Sakuma’s thighs quake as Miyoshi strokes him languidly, pausing every few seconds to smear the precum over the head of Sakuma’s cock and relish every twitch Sakuma makes.

 

“You’re so big. How were you able to hide all of this in those little swim trunks you wear?” Miyoshi asks and gives one slow drag of his tongue along the underside of Sakuma’s shaft. Sakuma shudders and claws at the wall behind him as Miyoshi gives kitten licks against Sakuma’s cock, his other hand rolling and squeezing at his balls.

 

Miyoshi reaches up and takes his Sakuma’s hand desperately trying to hold onto something, directing it to his hair. Miyoshi locks eyes with Sakuma, then swallows Sakuma’s cock in one swoop. Sakuma’s hand clenches to Miyoshi’s hair for dear life.

 

Miyoshi relaxes his throat and begins to bob his head up and down, stroking any part of Sakuma’s cock that he can’t manage to fit in his mouth. It’s so amazing how _good_ Miyoshi is at giving head. If there was a world title for it, Miyoshi would be the winner. Not that Sakuma has anything else to really compare to. He’s had boyfriends but they never went this far in the relationship-

 

Sakuma jolts his hips when he feels Miyoshi’s teeth scrape against the head of his cock. Miyoshi gags and chokes, Sakuma quickly trying to pull his hips back. “Shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

 

Miyoshi swats at Sakuma’s thigh and yanks him forward, eyes glaring up at him.

 

‘ _Don’t you dare pull away_ ’ is probably what Miyoshi is thinking. Sakuma is too distracted by how hot Miyoshi looks with his lips pink and wet and wrapped around his dick. He’s not sure he can take it any longer.

 

Miyoshi goes back to bobbing his head up and down Sakuma’s length, Sakuma’ death grip in Miyoshi’s hair growing tighter and tighter with each loud slurp and hard suck the brunet gives.

 

“F- _Fuck_ ,” Sakuma breathes, subconsciously pumping his hips into the wet, warm heaven that is Miyoshi’s mouth. Miyoshi moans, the vibrations making Sakuma’s toes curl and he yanks on Miyoshi’s hair. Miyoshi gags again and Sakuma sputters out another string of apologies. Miyoshi pulls back just enough to flatten his tongue against Sakuma’s slit, tonguing it rough and fast.

 

Sakuma is _whimpering_ and he’s sure he’s going to rip out a bit of Miyoshi’s hair if he keeps _doing thatfuckfuckfuck_.

 

“Stop,” Sakuma feebly whines. “I’m gonna,” Miyoshi sucks so hard, Sakuma’s sure his eyes roll to the back of his head, “I’m gonna c-come if you keep doing t- _that_.”

 

“That’s the idea, Pool Boy-chan,” Miyoshi muses, pulling of Sakuma’s cock with a loud pop and a long trail of spit connecting the tip of Sakuma’s cock with Miyoshi’s tongue. It’s such a lewd and filthy sight, Sakuma is surprised he didn’t come right then and there. He scrunches his eyes tight, trying to hold back.

 

Miyoshi swallows Sakuma back down and digs his fingernails into his thighs, surely leaving marks. His head moves so forcefully and fast and Sakuma’s foot slips as he tries to stay standing. It braces in between Miyoshi’s legs, right up against Miyoshi’s own hard member. Miyoshi moans and begins to rub himself against it, panting against Sakuma’s cock and slapping it against his tongue.

 

Sakuma dares to look down, dares to open his eyes.

 

He’s met with the sight of Miyoshi, face flushed and perfect hair completely ruined. He’s slowly grinding into Sakuma’s foot and his tongue is flat against the underside of Sakuma’s cock, stroking and pulling and **fuckingshit** -

 

Sakuma comes hard, harder than what he expects. His body shakes and quakes as the orgasm rips through his body and comes out his toes. Some of his come catches on Miyoshi’s cheek and his eyelid. The rest he manages to catch in his mouth and swallow it down, milking each and every drop. Sakuma feels so boneless and his hand in Miyoshi’s hair finally loosens, slumping down the wall in a sweaty heap.

 

Miyoshi gives Sakuma’s oversensitive cock a little tug and Sakuma jumps. He smiles and pulls his hand back, sucking each finger clean and moaning at the taste.

 

“Yummy,” he says and leans back, pushing a sweaty bang back. His hand snakes into his own shorts and he begins to stroke himself nice and slow, low breaths shuddering from his mouth. “You totally fucked up my hair though. Didn’t know you were into hair-pulling.”

 

Sakuma grunts. He usually loses all ability to form a coherent sentence after having such a _good_ orgasm. Miyoshi bites his lower lip and strokes himself faster, spreading his legs wider. “Fuck,” he whispers low and arches his back. Sakuma’s eyes flutter and he rolls over towards Miyoshi, slipping his hand into Miyoshi’s shorts to wrap his hand around Miyoshi’s leaking cock.

 

He strokes it with the same amount of fervor and kisses Miyoshi slow and sensual. Miyoshi’s hands grip tightly to Sakuma’s shoulders, humming against Sakuma’s lips. Sakuma pulls on Miyoshi’s lower lip with his teeth, jerking Miyoshi off faster. If Miyoshi is to win ‘best at giving head’, Sakuma is definitely to win ‘best at meat whacking’. He’s had a lot of practice being in military after all.

 

Miyoshi suddenly tenses and he kisses Sakuma roughly, moaning into Sakuma’s mouth as Sakuma’s hand grows hot and sticky and wet. His body trembles and he doesn’t let Sakuma have any air as he kisses him harder, muffling the sound of his whimpers and mewls as the orgasm works its way through his body. Miyoshi always makes it a point to never let Sakuma hear him come, always muffling his screams and moans with his hand or his pillow or Sakuma’s lips. What Sakuma wouldn’t give to hear Miyoshi just _sob_ in orgasmic bliss.

 

Miyoshi finally pulls away and Sakuma withdraws his hand from Miyoshi’s shorts, covered in his essence. Miyoshi breathes in a pleasured sigh and he pulls himself to his feet, grabbing some tissues on the coffee table that is conveniently close. He hands the box to Sakuma, who begins to clean himself up. Miyoshi stretches his arms above his head and yawns.

 

“I’m going to go take a shower. That was. . .fun,” Miyoshi says and bends down to kiss Sakuma on the cheek. Sakuma feels his chest swell. In a childish moment of pride, he does a fist pump behind Miyoshi’s back. Take that, Hatano! Miyoshi saunters out of the living room, turning to glance over his shoulder. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ll suggest next time,” he purrs and continues out of the living room towards the bathroom.

 

Sakuma blinks.

 

“. . .Next time?”


	2. afternoon delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Amari tries to be helpful

“So Sakuma, Jitsui told me you were awful in bed and needed advice.”

 

Sakuma almost stumbles over his own feet, but regains his footing and his pace in his jog. Frate runs around his feet, like he’s eager for Sakuma to fall so he can jump and lick all over his face like always. Sakuma turns his exhausted gaze towards Amari, who wipes some sweat from his brow and tightens his grip on Frate’s leash. He smiles at Sakuma, like he hasn’t said anything at all rude.

 

“. . .I didn’t tell Jitsui I was awful in bed. I’m _not_ awful in bed. Whatever you heard is a lie,” Sakuma shoots off. He thought Jitsui wouldn’t tell. He should have known better honestly.

 

“Ok, but if you needed advice, you should have come to me. After all, couples with children usually are believed to have a dead sex life. However, I am an exception, ” Amari continues with a triumphant grin. They pass two old women sitting on the bench chatting amongst each other. Sakuma waits till they are out of earshot before he continues.

 

“I didn’t think about asking you because. . .” Well, really it’s because Amari doesn’t have a sense of ‘I’m giving out too much information’ and Sakuma already is scarred from witnessing the foreplay between Gamou and Jitsui. He doesn’t even want to think about the weird shit Tazaki incorporates in the bedroom that Amari doesn’t mind sharing.

 

“First rule is that you can’t be nervous about talking about it,” Amari states, whistling to Frate to keep up the pace and Frate tags along at his ankles. “We’re all adults here. We’re all sexually active. Well, except maybe Fukumoto. I’m not a hundred percent sure about him yet. But it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Miyoshi is pretty good looking. A bitch at times, but good looking-”

 

“Amari-san,” Sakuma begins, drained, “I assure you, our sex life is fine and we don’t need any input.”

 

Amari nods his head, biting the inside of his cheek. The both of them continue their run for about ten minutes in complete silence, cool morning air breezing over their hot skin. Amari takes a swig of his water bottle and wipes his face with his arm. “Have you ever looked into the kama sutra?” Amari asks.

 

A woman walking past whirls her head so fast to look at them, her neck looks like it snaps. Sakuma grimaces and begins to run faster, hoping to out run his embarrassment. Amari keeps up with his pace and Frate happily runs along as Sakuma sprints a block down the path and slows by the fountain. Sakuma glares at Amari.

 

“ _No_. Can we stop talking about this in public?” Sakuma doesn’t want to beg Amari to shut up, but he’ll consider it if it’ll save him from dying of humiliation.

 

“But it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Lots of men face these sort of problems in their sex life. Keeping it interesting when the flame begins to die down. You probably sell it in your store, you never perused the contents?”

 

Sakuma knows they have a health and wellness section of the bookstore that has books on sexual wellbeing. He’s the ‘angry book clerk’ that always scares stupid teenagers away from trying to take a peek for anything juicy. Sakuma bites the inside of his cheek and Amari shrugs.

 

“It’s something to think about. It’s something that can be fun for the both of you,” Amari suggests and then rubs his nose, a delicious smirk coming to his lips. “There’s this one position, the ‘Crouching Tiger’? Man, when Tazaki does it, it’s _quite_ a sight to look at.”

 

Sakuma makes a mental note to bring headphones the next time he goes on a run with Amari.

 

* * *

 

 

Sakuma spends about a good fifteen minutes standing in the health and wellness section of his book store, not too close to the sexual wellbeing bookshelf, but close enough that he can look over the covers and plan which one of them he’s going to grab. It’s a slow day and most of the workers are too lethargic to pay any attention to the customers around them. He’s really only worried about Hatano catching him. It’ll be _hell_ if Hatano catches him with a kama sutra book.

 

Hatano is either in the children’s section or the nonfiction section today. He didn’t scout him out because he doesn’t want Hatano asking questions on why he’s here at work on his day off and heckling him because of that. Worst case scenario would be that he’s manning the registers. Sakuma briefly wonders how much trouble he would be in if he is caught stealing a kama sutra book because he didn’t want to deal with his obnoxious co-worker, but decides against it. He takes a tentative step closer and looks at the sexual wellbeing books, glaring at the kama sutra editions.

 

Most of them are for heterosexual couples and the older editions are on sale. He spots editions that are meant to be used for large groups and Sakuma can’t even _fathom_ how that works. There’s books on self-pleasure and books that detail BDSM (he shudders) and all of it makes Sakuma feel so dirty just _staring_ at them. He hasn’t even picked up a damn book, how is he supposed to buy one and put the information to use??

 

He checks over his shoulder for anyone watching him. People are still minding their own business, not even paying any attention. He turns attention back to the books and snatches one off the shelf, flipping haphazardly through the pages so he can get some sort of substance as to what he’s purchasing.

 

These positions. . .look. . .how the hell. . .these look exhausting. . .Miyoshi would actually look pretty good folded up like that. . .he doesn’t think he can get his leg around his neck like that. . .oh _wow_ , Miyoshi would look so hot like this. . .damn, he would love to fuck Miyoshi in _this_ position-

 

“Ah, Sakuma-san.”

 

Sakuma shouts and jumps and shoves the book into the pocket of his coat, turning to look and see Fukumoto standing behind him with his own stack of small books tucked underneath his arm. Sakuma relaxes, figuring that if _anyone_ should catch him with a dirty book, Fukumoto will be the one less judgmental. Probably.

 

“Oh, Fukumoto-san. Good afternoon,” he greets like he didn’t just suspiciously shove a book into his coat pocket and jump like a scared cat in the dumpster. Fukumoto gives a nod of the head, then glances over at the sexual wellbeing books they were dangerously standing close to. Sakuma stammers and waves his hand that isn’t holding onto the kama sutra in his coat in a death grip. “Oh! I was just passing through here on my way to the register! Nothing here for me, haha!”

 

Fukumoto just gives him that blank, unreadable stare of his. It makes Sakuma more nervous and jittery.

 

“Er,” Sakuma begins, trying to dispel the tension building in his chest and begging him to just turn tail and run out of the store, “What brings you over here?”

 

“I was buying some new diet cookbooks. I’m concerned about Emma-chan and the boys’ diets since Tazaki and Amari are terrible cooks,” Fukumoto says. Now that Sakuma has a better look at the books in Fukumoto’s hands, he does see a few cookbooks for children as well as some books on knitting as well. He partially wonders if Tazaki and Amari are the ones raising the children, or if Fukumoto is raising them all.

 

“Oh, that’s good. They’re quite lucky to have a godfather like you, Fukumoto-san,” Sakuma says with a smile. Fukumoto nods with that impassive look. He sees the corner of his mouth crinkle upwards just a smidge, but it’s barely noticeable and disappears faster than Sakuma can blink his eyes. Fukumoto gestures to the books under his arm.

 

“Well, if you’re going to the registers as well, we can walk together-”

 

“Ah! No!” Sakuma shouts and bites his lower lip when a few glares get shot his way. “I-uh-I need to-uh, get another book for Miyoshi! Skin care and stuff!” Sakuma blurts. Fukumoto hums.

 

“That’ll be here in this section, correct? I can help you look for it-”

 

“N-No need, Fukumoto-san! I-I don’t really remember the name of it, so it might take a while. No need to keep you waiting, haha.” Why is Fukumoto being so friendly and open right now? Fukumoto barely says more than ten words at a time, why is he being so _nice?_ This is ruining Sakuma’s well-thought out plan to buy this damn book that feels so heavy in his coat pocket. Maybe he should just ditch it and run. There has to be editions online that he can browse in the privacy of his own home. But now he has to ditch the book without Fukumoto noticing he has it.

 

Sakuma just dug himself into a deep hole. Damn that Amari.

 

“Hmm, well maybe we can ask someone. Come on, the help desk isn’t far,” Fukumoto says and Sakuma sighs.

 

“Well, yeah. I know where it is, I work here.”

 

Fukumoto hums impassively. Well, he doesn’t give a damn about that.

 

Fukumoto leaves and Sakuma dutifully follows, crafting in his head where to ditch the book and how to escape from Fukumoto. He could just dump it on the bookshelf they’re approaching and hope no one else notices him doing so. Then, he can slip away without Fukumoto noticing. The help desk is in the center of the bookstore and directly in front of Sakuma’s only exit. There’s tables that have books surrounding the help desk, but the area is too open and someone will find a dirty book like the kama sutra way too easily. He has to do it now.

 

Very carefully, Sakuma slips the book out from his coat and flings it onto the passing bookshelf like it’s on fire. Okay, now to just make it to the center aisle and run-

 

“Fucking hell, can’t you put the book in the right place at least?”

 

Sakuma recognizes that annoyed, disdainful complaining voice. The worst possible outcome.

 

The voice dies down and Sakuma stupidly turns to look over his shoulder and sees Hatano blankly staring at him, holding that sinful, disgustingly erotic book in his hands. There’s a century of silence that passes, both staring at each other and Sakuma just wishing that the floor beneath him will open up and swallow him whole.

 

Fukumoto turns around and cocks his head to the side. “Ah, so Amari-san was right about you buying that book.”

 

Hatano develops the _biggest_ shit-eating grin over his face.

 

Sakuma nearly knocks over a book display as he flees the store.

 

* * *

 

There isn’t a lot that comes with looking up new and exciting sexual positions on the Internet. There isn’t some paragraph that details what type of pleasure the positions entails for the receiver and their partner. There is a lot of porn, however. Lots of porn.

 

Sakuma usually never watches porn. It’s unrealistic, for one thing. The scenarios are stupid, the acting is terrible, the camera angles are awkward sometimes, and half of them have cheesy music and video effects that should have remained in the 90s. Yet, here he is, one hand writing down positions that he would maybe want to try out while his less dominant hand absently strokes himself through his sweats.

 

His brain is torn between focusing and trying to siphon some information out of this meatfest on his laptop screen or just jerking off and fantasizing about his boyfriend, but dammit, Sakuma is going to get this right the first time. If something goes wrong, no doubt Miyoshi won’t let it go for about a month. Sakuma learned that the hard way when he wanted to incorporate some special lube that resulted in an allergic reaction and one embarrassing trip to the doctors, livetweeted by Miyoshi.

 

He scribbles down some good locations to try these positions out as he digs his left palm into his stiffening member, gnawing on his lower lip. Miyoshi should be here in another hour; it’ll be alright if he just. . .takes care of this before he comes home. He’s sure that he’s got enough information. It shouldn’t be that hard, he just needs to think of it like a workout. A really sweaty, sexy workout. That he will do naked. And with Miyoshi. Who will also be naked.

 

Fuck it.

 

Sakuma slips his right hand into his sweats to take control, throwing his head back against his pillows situated at the head of their bed. He listens to the ridiculously exaggerated moans coming from one of the men on the screen and tries to imagine such sounds coming from Miyoshi’s mouth. He’s close enough in vocal range for Sakuma to be able to pretend, but he gets thrown out of his fantasy every time the other guy has to interrupt with his own animalistic grunts and swears. How can anyone get into porn if someone is constantly breaking your illusion like that? What an inconsiderate asshole.

 

He pictures Miyoshi underneath him, his legs wrapped around Sakuma’s waist pulling him in so tightly that Sakuma can’t move. He has his arms around Sakuma too and his face is flushed completely red, eyes and kiss-swollen lips begging to be fucked. Sakuma does so, nice and slow. He wants to drag the keens and whines out of Miyoshi, savor every whimper and whine and tremble under his fingertips. He kisses him with passion and suckles on his lower lip, the way that Miyoshi likes it. He fucks into him deeper and deeper and Miyoshi’s breathing gets heavier and heavier until his toes curl and he tenses.

 

And Sakuma just wants to see Miyoshi come undone. He wants to hear Miyoshi cry out and feel him convulse and watch as Miyoshi – _his_ Miyoshi – comes and Sakuma is right there to hold him through it. The moaning gets louder and louder and Sakuma feels his hand moving faster and faster over his length. He doesn’t think Miyoshi would get _this_ loud. Miyoshi doesn’t even talk much except to tell Sakuma he’s doing something he doesn’t like. Sakuma does admit he likes that quiet, intimateness Miyoshi has when they have sex. It feels more personal; every little breathy gasp and whimper and soft murmur is for Sakuma’s ears only.

 

The moaning starts getting louder. God, this guy is really screaming here.

 

Sakuma’s brain faintly registers that underneath the moaning that is starting to grow obnoxiously loud, there is the sound of someone repeatedly jabbing a button key.

 

Sakuma’s eyes flutter open and he sees Miyoshi standing with eyes trained on him, repeatedly stabbing his finger into the volume up button on his laptop.

 

Sakuma flails and almost kicks the laptop off the bed, yanking his hand out of his pants. “M-Miyoshi!”

 

“Well, don’t let me stop you now.” Miyoshi has that _tone_. It’s the ‘you _really_ fucked up, but I’m not going to tell you what it is and you’re going to have to suffer until either I forget about it or you buy me something to make up’. Sakuma swallows. He glances at the clock on their nightstand and it reads 6:20. Miyoshi must have left work early.

 

“I-uh-how was work?” Sakuma says feebly since Miyoshi isn’t going to be the one to speak.

 

“Fine. You know, except how I was waiting patiently at the café my boyfriend said he was going to meet me for lunch at since he had the day off and I got stood up. Jitsui’s stupid boyfriend saw me eating _by myself_. Do you even know how _embarrassing_ that is?”

 

“But people go out to lunch by themselves all the time,” Sakuma offers.

 

“Not when they have a boyfriend!”

 

“Miyoshi, I’m _so_ sorry. I just. . .got distracted.” Sakuma has flashbacks of the kama sutra and Hatano and Fukumoto. He shivers and Miyoshi huffs.

 

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like. . .why are you taking notes on sex positions?” At this, Miyoshi raises the paper with Sakuma’s scribble of writing and Sakuma pales. Was he _that_ out of it to not hear Miyoshi come in the apartment, walk into the bedroom and take his notes? “Are you taking a test or something, Sakuma-san?”

 

“That-I just-it’s- _Miyoshi_.”

 

“Well?”

 

Sakuma wipes his hand on his thigh, awkwardly looking at the laptop and the guys still going at it loudly. “Can you turn that off at least so the neighbors don’t hear?” Sakuma asked and Miyoshi pauses the video, crossing his arms over his chest. Sakuma sucks in a breath. “Well. . .I was just thinking that maybe we should. . .try new positions out. . .since you apparently don’t like missionary-”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It just gets boring if we keep doing it like that.”

 

Sakuma twitches. Not this again. It’s _romantic_ looking into your partner’s eyes when you make love. Is Sakuma the only one that thinks that?

 

Miyoshi rubs the back of his head, glancing at the list. “These are. . .different. I mean, I’d be fine with just riding you. We don’t have to do all this extra stuff,” Miyoshi muses.

 

(Thankfully, Miyoshi didn’t see Sakuma’s search history and the videos he bookmarked on riding to be viewed for further. . .research.)

 

“Well, I just thought they might be fun and w-we don’t have to do them if you don’t want to-”

 

“No, now I’m curious. . .ok, we’ll try these out. You’re starting to get very adventurous in bed. You’re still the dorky, proper Sakuma-san I fell in love with, right? I’m not sleeping with some imposter?”

 

“Haha, very funny,” Sakuma says dryly and Miyoshi smiles. Sakuma crawls forward and lets his hands glide onto Miyoshi’s hips, pulling him forward. Miyoshi smiles bigger and raises his hand, swatting Sakuma hard on the wrist. Sakuma pulls back with a yelp and Miyoshi winks.

 

“Well, obviously not today. You stood me up, why should I sleep with you if you’re not going to appreciate the honor of taking me out to lunch?” Miyoshi says matter-of-factly. Sakuma rubs his wrist and sighs. Of course. Miyoshi turns and sheds his jacket, tossing it onto the dresser. “What are you in the mood for? I’m off the menu so don’t make that joke.”

 

“. . .Stir-fry, I guess,” Sakuma says pitifully. Miyoshi nods his head and begins to walk out of the bedroom, Sakuma scrambling to get off the bed. “W-When would you want to-”

 

“When I get back in the mood. I’ll let you know, Sakuma-san,” Miyoshi says with a little wink and points at his hand. “Make sure you wash that thing before dinner,” he says and leaves the bedroom to head for the kitchen.

 

Sakuma doesn’t know whether to feel aroused or scared. Maybe a little bit of both.

 

* * *

 

It’s about three days later of Sakuma avoiding Hatano like the plague and ignoring Amari’s texts about whether he bought the book and what positions he tried out and some personal recommendations. So many recommendations; Sakuma can’t even fathom how Amari and Tazaki have the energy to _do_ all of that with four kids in their household. He also looks over Fukumoto’s Instagram of dishes he prepared with his new cookbook, and spends his next off day with Miyoshi that ends with buying an expensive watch that leaves Sakuma and his wallet in tears.

 

On Sunday, Sakuma is lounging on the couch, lazily flipping through the newspaper for anything interesting that may catch his eye. He hears Miyoshi in the shower, but he doesn’t let his mind wander to the thought of Miyoshi lathering himself up with soap and his body getting nice and slick with water and-

 

Sakuma blinks, then smothers himself with the newspaper. Ever since Hatano criticized his sex life, now that’s _all_ he can think of. He’s never been like this before, so _desperate_ for Miyoshi to get underneath him. Even when he was in high school, he was never this hormonal and carnal and only thinking with his dick. He pulls the newspaper down from his eyes and stares upwards at the ceiling. He needs to get a hold of himself. He’s a grown man, not a stupid teenager or a squirrel trying to get a nut. He has control. He can think about something else other than-

 

“Sakuma, you need to tell the landlord that we’re not paying this ridiculously high rent to have cold water in the showers,” Miyoshi’s voice floats into Sakuma’s ears.

 

“You were in there for two hours.”

 

“What’s your point?”

 

Sakuma sighs and looks over at Miyoshi, but his initial rant of why Miyoshi needs to learn how to conserve water dies from his lips. Miyoshi is standing there, a towel wrapped around his waist and still dripping wet. He has another towel around his neck and is patting at water droplets that fall from his hair, eyes looking quite amused. “Hmm, is Sakuma-san at a lost for words?”

 

“. . .I’m. . .fine. . .”

 

“Always so eloquent,” Miyoshi comments and walks towards him with a sway in his hips. The towel is in danger of falling to the floor and exposing Miyoshi and Sakuma sits up right on the couch, watching that thin fabric like a dog waiting for his treat. Miyoshi smiles and reaches out to take Sakuma’s chin and tilt it upwards so he’s looking into those alluring eyes. “Sakuma-san,” Miyoshi coos and Sakuma shudders. “I’m back in the mood.”

 

Sakuma nearly tackles Miyoshi to the ground.

 

Sakuma scoops Miyoshi in his arms and hurriedly carries him to the bedroom, quickly trying to recall the positions and which one would be the best to start with and what they needed and god, Sakuma’s starting to get dizzy. The blood is rushing too fast from his head to his groin; he needs to sit down.

 

Sakuma drops Miyoshi ungracefully on the bed, the auburn-haired man propping himself on his elbows and quirking an eyebrow. “Eager, aren’t you? Are you worried we’re not going to have sex again or something?”

 

“No, I just. . .well, how do you want to do this?”

 

“I thought you were the one who studied this, Sakuma-san.”

 

“I didn’t _study_ it,” Sakuma corrects and rubs the back of his neck. Miyoshi hums and parts his thighs, the towel barely covering himself. Sakuma follows the movement and feels his mouth water as Miyoshi lazily tangles his fingers in the sheets.

 

“You can start by getting undressed? It seems unfair that I’m the only one naked,” Miyoshi suggests. Sakuma dumbly nods, peeling off his shirt and shucking his sweats. He pulls down his boxers and his erection embarrassingly springs out, eager and tip an angry red. Miyoshi smiles behind his hand, then gestures with a ‘come hither’ motion. Sakuma climbs onto the bed, throwing away that censoring towel and leaves Miyoshi bare underneath him. Just the way he likes it.

 

He kisses Miyoshi, running his tongue over his lower lip and licks into his mouth as he caresses his leg, pulling Miyoshi into his warm embrace. Miyoshi tangles his fingers in Sakuma’s hair, wrapping his leg around Sakuma’s thigh and slowly rolling his hips up against him. Sakuma moves his lips down Miyoshi’s throat, giving little nips at his clavicle and moves down his chest. He latches his lips around one of Miyoshi’s nipples and gives it a little suck and Miyoshi jumps.

 

“S-Sakuma-san, no,” Miyoshi stammers, and Sakuma smiles. He knows this is definitely one of Miyoshi’s sensitive spots and loves to tease him. It’s probably the only time during sex that Sakuma feels that he is this sort of _god_ , with the power to change Miyoshi’s skin into a pink rosy hue that spreads out over his chest and engulfs his body.

 

Sakuma pulls at the nub with his teeth and Miyoshi arches his back, struggling to keep his whimpers quiet. He takes his hand and forcefully pushes at Sakuma’s head. “Q-Quit it,” Miyoshi tries to say more forcibly and Sakuma chuckles, circling around the erect bud with his tongue once before he continues down Miyoshi’s stomach and props up his legs.

 

Miyoshi watches as Sakuma kisses along the inner parts of his thigh, dragging his tongue against the expanse of toned muscle that is quivering in his hold. Sakuma moves upwards, kissing along the crest of Miyoshi’s hipbone and stroking his hand up and down Miyoshi’s legs. He can possibly spend eternity like this, between Miyoshi’s legs and kissing every inch of his skin.

 

“Mmm, Sakuma-san, I thought you were going to try your new moves on me,” Miyoshi hums and Sakuma brings his head back up, kissing Miyoshi’s knee.

 

“Right, right,” Sakuma says and puts Miyoshi’s legs down, rolling over towards the bedstand for the lube and condoms they always have stocked. Miyoshi rolls over to the side and watches as Sakuma pulls out a new bottle and small foil package, tossing both of them on the bed. Miyoshi takes the condom in his hands and rips it open, Sakuma looking over at him and giving a small sigh.

 

“I know how to put on a condom myself,” Sakuma says and Miyoshi crooks his finger for Sakuma to come close. He does, Miyoshi wrapping tender fingers around his length and giving it a couple of pumps. Sakuma shudders and Miyoshi smiles.

 

“I know. I just like to do it myself,” Miyoshi says and rolls the condom on Sakuma with ease. Sakuma hates to admit it, but he kind of likes it too. He feels his face flush with heat as Miyoshi strokes him and licks at the head, fluttering his eyes like an innocent virgin. Sakuma clambers back onto the bed, pushing Miyoshi’s legs open as he pops open the cap of lube. Miyoshi shakes his head. “I’m already stretched, no need for that.”

 

“. . .What? When?”

 

“The shower, obviously.” Miyoshi takes the bottle of lube from Sakuma and pours a generous amount into the palm of his hand. He begins to stroke Sakuma’s length again, getting it nice and wet. Sakuma breathes in deeply as Miyoshi gets to his knees, tracing his finger over the perineum and cups Sakuma’s balls. “How do you want me?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma swallows.

 

“Uh, okay. Come ‘ere,” Sakuma says and pulls Miyoshi into his arms up against his chest. He wraps his arms around Miyoshi and lifts him off the bed, Miyoshi’s legs immediately wrapping around Sakuma’s hips and his arms going around Sakuma’s neck. Sakuma stumbles back from the weight and bumps into the floor lamp, almost knocking it on the ground and breaking _that_ too.

 

“I’m not heavy, am I?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma grunts, adjusting his hold on Miyoshi as he grabs hold of his behind.

 

“No. Like holding a sack of feathers,” Sakuma says with a cheesy smile that Miyoshi rolls his eyes at. Sakuma grabs at his length and directs it against Miyoshi’s entrance, pushing into that warm, tight heat and _wow._ It doesn’t matter if Miyoshi fingered and stretched himself during those two hours in the shower because he still feels so tight and snug around Sakuma’s dick. Sakuma grunts and holds Miyoshi firmly, sinking more and more of him down till he’s inside balls deep.

 

Miyoshi is panting against his ear, his hand fisting in Sakuma’s hair. Sakuma gives him a moment to adjust. He knows he’s considerably thick – something that he takes great pride in – and he’s always concerned about Miyoshi’s body taking it all. They’ve done this enough times for Sakuma to not be worried about hurting Miyoshi, but it’s always in the back of his mind. Behind the thoughts of ‘fuck he feels so _good_ ’ and ‘if it was biologically possible and sanitary, I would stay in him forever’.

 

“Okay, okay. . .move,” Miyoshi breathes, resting his forehead against Sakuma’s. His eyes are hazed over and glossy, the bridge of his nose tinting pink. Sakuma kisses him and pulls his hips back, thrusting forward. Miyoshi clenches tight and bonks his forehead against Sakuma, trying to stiffen his gasp. Sakuma’s head reels back, stumbling backwards into the bedroom door.

 

“W-What happened?!” Sakuma asks worriedly and Miyoshi shakes his head.

 

“No, no, it feels good. Keep going,” he quickly breathes and buries his face in Sakuma’s shoulder. Sakuma looks at him, then adjusts his hold and snaps his hips back. Miyoshi’s nails dig into his skin and Sakuma can feel Miyoshi’s teeth grazing against his skin as he fucks into him. Miyoshi’s legs have untangled from around Sakuma’s waist and have gone loose, Sakuma struggling to hold Miyoshi up as he feels his own legs quake from the pleasure and strain.

 

Sakuma quickly moves over to the window and presses Miyoshi against it. Miyoshi’s head bangs against the glass and he swears, glaring at Sakuma with eyes that are still glazed over with lust.

 

“Sorry,” Sakuma apologizes and hikes Miyoshi’s legs up higher, shifting his hips faster now that he has Miyoshi supported. Miyoshi’s nails begin to claw at Sakuma’s back, failing to keep the whimpers and yelps silent with his clenched teeth. His bangs are falling into his eyes and his neck is exposed for Sakuma to latch his mouth onto his pulse point. Miyoshi chokes out another gasp as Sakuma pushes deeper and harder and _faster_.

 

Sakuma opens his eyes and he can barely see the sidewalk outside their window over Miyoshi’s shoulder. . .

 

A sidewalk that had people and children casually walking down it on this beautiful Sunday afternoon.

 

Innocent children that can easily look up and see Sakuma fucking Miyoshi up against their bedroom window.

 

Sakuma’s body moves faster than his brain and he stumbles backwards with Miyoshi in tow. Miyoshi clings onto Sakuma from the sudden movement and Sakuma spins them both around, before he rams Miyoshi into the wall and _does_ knock over the floor lamp. Well, he has to replace that along with the clock now.

 

Miyoshi’s head bangs against the wall and he grits his teeth. “I’m pretty sure giving your partner a concussion _isn’t_ sexy, Sakuma-san. Who do I look like? Jitsui?”

 

“S-Sorry, I didn’t want anyone seeing us,” Sakuma says and quickly regains his pace before Miyoshi can make another retort. Miyoshi goes back to trying to hold back his keens and Sakuma’s mind goes back to becoming absorbed in the heat and tightness of Miyoshi. He glances down between them at Miyoshi’s own cock, untouched and weeping. Sakuma thinks it’ll be a great feat if he manages to make Miyoshi come without having his cock touched. His hips start slamming faster to make it happen.

 

Miyoshi has now given up on trying to hold back his whines, but not really since now he’s making these embarrassing hiccup noises and a bit of drool is coming from the side of his mouth. Miyoshi bites his tongue, his hand tangling in Sakuma’s hair again as he tries to stop all these noises from croaking out of his mouth. But Sakuma _loves_ it. He loves how sexy Miyoshi looks, even as a sweaty, flushed, hiccupping mess.

 

Miyoshi’s hand moves from Sakuma’s hair to caress his cheek, locking eyes with Sakuma. Sakuma can see it in Miyoshi’s eyes. He’s going to come, he’s approaching the edge and Sakuma can feel Miyoshi squeezing around him like a warm vice. Sakuma adjusts his hold and Miyoshi awkwardly braces himself back against the wall.

 

“Can we move to the bed?” Miyoshi pants out and Sakuma blinks. He figures that being crushed against the wall can’t be good for Miyoshi’s back, so he complies and carries Miyoshi away from the wall. He falls down on the bed and onto Miyoshi, still buried deep inside of him. Miyoshi grunts under Sakuma’s weight, but gets comfortable against the pillows and tilts his chin up to kiss against the cleft of Sakuma’s chin.

 

Sakuma hums against Miyoshi’s lips, pumping his hips slowly. He can’t help it; he loves having Miyoshi in his arms like this. He loves feeling Miyoshi’s breath against his cheek and feeling Miyoshi’s legs tangle around his waist. He loves kissing Miyoshi, sloppily and open-mouthed, heavy breathing and not at all beautiful. The slick of their bodies sliding against each other hot and sticky, the loud slap of skin against skin, Sakuma loves it all.

 

He feels Miyoshi tense and Miyoshi bites on Sakuma’s lower lip, whimper croaking in his throat as Sakuma feels Miyoshi release over both of their abdomens. He shakes and convulses, biting so hard on Sakuma’s lip that he’s starting to taste a familiar copper taste mingling in with Miyoshi’s lip balm. Miyoshi digs his nails into Sakuma’s shoulders and finally pulls back, slumping against the pillows with a hand over his eyes and his legs falling from around Sakuma’s waist.

 

Sakuma looks down at the mess on Miyoshi’s stomach and runs a hand through his own sweaty hair. Miyoshi peaks between his fingers.

 

“I hate coming before you do,” Miyoshi says and Sakuma blinks, then chuckles. He kisses Miyoshi’s forehead and continues to thrust into Miyoshi’s spent body, feeling how Miyoshi still squeezes around him nice and snug. Miyoshi kisses Sakuma’s cheek, leaning up to start sucking on Sakuma’s neck, at the hickey that is only now beginning to fade.

 

It takes a couple more minutes of Sakuma rolling his hips forward and back, a couple more minutes of Miyoshi’s tongue teasing his jugular and nipping at his earlobe, a couple more minutes of Miyoshi smoothing his hands over the scratch marks he left on Sakuma’s back and shoulders and down to his waist to grab at his ass. Sakuma grunts and he tucks his head in the crook of Miyoshi’s neck.

 

“Gonna come,” he pants, snapping his hips forward _very_ hard. Miyoshi jolts in discomfort and Sakuma barely manages to breathe out an apology, feeling his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Pull out,” Miyoshi says and Sakuma breathes.

 

“W-What?”

 

Miyoshi is shoving Sakuma off of him and Sakuma _desperately_ wants to stay inside. Miyoshi – despite being in the ‘post orgasmic bliss’ mode – manages to push Sakuma off and Sakuma slips out. His cock is straining and it’s _so_ painful. Sakuma is making these pathetic whining noises as Miyoshi crawls over him and slides Sakuma’s condom off. He tosses it off to the side and pumps Sakuma a few times, letting his tongue lap at Sakuma’s leaking head. Sakuma groans and digs his hand in Miyoshi’s hair, trying to force him down more.

 

Miyoshi resists the push and jerks Sakuma faster, opening his mouth nice and wide. His eyes lock with Sakuma's and they hold a glint in them.  _Do it. I know you want to, Sa-ku-ma-san~_

 

Sakuma’s hand nearly rips Miyoshi’s hair out when he comes and he comes _loud_. His hand grabs at Miyoshi’s that’s holding his cock, his chest heaves and he makes a noise that sounds like it should be coming from an animal instead of a man. He splashes all over Miyoshi’s face and Miyoshi latches his lips around Sakuma’s head, sucking him dry.

 

Sakuma twitches and gains control of his breathing, blearly watching as Miyoshi’s head bobs up and down and pulls off with a loud pop. He’s finally beginning to soften and he feels ready to sleep for the next week. Or month.

 

Sakuma’s head lolls over to look at Miyoshi, face covered in Sakuma’s essence.

 

“. . .You look. . .so fucking hot,” Sakuma says, too fucked out to even be embarrassed by what he says.

 

“In general or because I have your semen all over my face?”

 

“Both. You’re so beautiful,” Sakuma says with a dazed smile.

 

“You’re always so cute when I give you a good orgasm. And very amusing,” Miyoshi says and sighs, looking at the mess on his stomach. “How about I go and clean up and you can continue to worship me afterwards?”

 

Sakuma dumbly nods his head. That was _such_ a good fuck. He takes every mean thing he’s thought about Amari back.

 

Miyoshi gets up from the bed and leaves to the bathroom, Sakuma watching Miyoshi’s backside leave him and groaning about how good it looks. His skin is still peachy red and Sakuma is too far gone to even think about anything else. Sakuma rolls over onto his back and stares up at the ceiling with the biggest smile on his lips.

 

Best. Afternoon. Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the f*ck was episode 11 *writes like nothing happened*


	3. mirror, mirror on the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Miyoshi and Sakuma go to a party

“Miyoshi, what do you think about this one?”

 

“The name is Maki and you know that if we stand in this store any longer, I am literally going to break out in hives so just _pick one_.”

 

Sakuma rolls his eyes and glances over at ‘Maki’, who is standing about four feet away from him and constantly looking over his shoulder for anyone that might recognize him in his disguise.

 

Let it be known that Miyoshi _hates_ thrift shopping and value stores. Or rather, he hates being _caught_ thrift shopping and being in value stores. If there is ever a flea market in town, Miyoshi will passive-aggressively hint he wants to go, but then makes a fuss about going with Sakuma and Fukumoto and ends up staying in the car for the entire time to save face.

 

If Miyoshi _does_ go to the flea market or value store, he always has to go in disguise because ‘Miyoshi’ has a boyfriend that’ll buy him whatever he wants so he doesn’t need to stoop to such commoner levels of purchasing goods.

 

Sakuma goes back to observing the clocks in his hands, both at a reasonably good price for his budget. One of the clocks is made of wood and has Swiss decorations beside the numbers, while the other one is a digital clock that can read the time in Japan and two other locations that you program into it. Sakuma rather likes this clock; it looks like it will be more durable in case they bang into the wall during one of their sessions.

 

“Miyoshi, come on-”

 

“ _Maki._ And the digital clock, I don’t know. Why couldn’t we go to the mall and buy a clock?”

 

“Because the mall has other things. Like clothing stores that I don’t feel like taking detours through,” Sakuma says and puts the wooden clock back, tossing the digital clock into their basket. Now to find a decent floor lamp.

 

Miyoshi groans as Sakuma heads towards the light section, trudging along a good distance away. Sakuma is partially amazed at how impractical Miyoshi can be when it comes to objects sometimes. Sakuma remembers Miyoshi almost having an ulcer when Hatano cheekily called out that he saw one of Miyoshi’s shirts in the bargain bin of a cheap retail store. Sakuma doesn’t even know if Miyoshi still has that shirt, or if he burned it in a fit of embarrassed rage.

 

“How much longer?” Miyoshi asks, looking over his shoulder again. Who does he think will be in here? The only people that come to mind that would actually enjoy thrift shopping is Fukumoto and Odagiri. And neither of those two gave a shit about what Miyoshi does in his spare time anyways.

 

“It’ll be faster if you’re a willing shopper and help.”

 

“I _hate_ thrift shopping. Everything is so dusty and old and tacky. Who would buy any of this shit?”

 

“Common people like us, that’s who.”

 

“Wrong answer,” Miyoshi spits and Sakuma turns to look at him.

 

“If you grab the first lamp you see, we can leave faster.”

 

“No, it has to match the bedsheets and the curtains and the dresser. I paid too much for those things for your ugly, cheap lamp to throw off the feng shui,” Miyoshi states and Sakuma scoffs.

 

“Does it matter? We need a light, who cares if it matches?” Sakuma says and stops to look at a light with oval-shaped shades. It looks very futuristic actually. He reaches out to grab it, but Miyoshi begins to push him along.

 

“No, not that one,” he says, then puts space between him and Sakuma once more. Sakuma’s hands hover over a brass lamp with glass-stained shades shaped in boxes. Miyoshi makes a gagging noise. Sakuma moves his hands over a teal blue lamp with the lightbulbs placed at odd angles. Miyoshi groans.

 

“Sakuma-san, you have such bad taste. I’m surprised we’re not living in a clown house,” Miyoshi says and Sakuma huffs in frustration.

 

“Then pick a lamp already so we can go!”

 

“I don’t like any of these lamps!”

 

“You haven’t even looked!”

 

“I don’t want to hurt my eyes any longer,” Miyoshi says and adjusts the sunglasses on his nose. Sakuma pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“Then wait here and I’ll pick out a small lamp that we can use for now,” Sakuma says and Miyoshi bites the inside of his cheek. Sakuma adjusts his coat and gets a tighter grip on the handle of the basket, pushing forward through the aisle and leaving Miyoshi to figure out what to do with himself amongst all this fugly furniture.

 

There’s a wide assortment of lamps that are in Sakuma’s price range. He honestly doesn’t care what the lamp looks like, as long as it works. He even considers buying a lamp that has a stand that looks like it is made of deer antlers and a deer painted on the yellow shade, but figures that Miyoshi will hate the lamp so much that he’ll break it just so he won’t have to look at it anymore.

 

That’s what happened to Sakuma’s favorite tie that had a design printed on it that Hatano best described as ‘a fucking ugly Windows 98 screensaver’. Miyoshi told him one day that the dog ripped it up into bits. They don’t even _own_ a dog.

 

Sakuma rounds the corner, too absorbed in trying to pick out a suitable lamp and retrieving his boyfriend that he accidentally crashes baskets with another shopper.

 

“O-Oh! Sorry, excuse me-”

 

“Sakuma-san.”

 

Sakuma blinks and realizes that he crashed his basket directly into the basket of his boss. Mutou is usually a very agitated individual that didn’t like any of his subordinates and is a total pain in the ass to deal with. But Sakuma doesn’t voice his complaints about the man out loud. That’s Hatano’s job.

 

“Good afternoon, sir,” Sakuma greets and Mutou grunts, peering at Sakuma’s basket.

 

“Daily shopping?” Mutou asks and Sakuma rubs the back of his neck.

 

“Uh, we needed a new clock. And lamp.” Not that Mutou needs to know how they got broken in the first place.

 

His manager grunts again and scratches at his chin. “By the way, I didn’t hear from you if you were going to come to the pot luck this weekend. Everyone brings a dish and a plus one.”

 

This sounds like one of Mutou’s mandatory pot lucks to instill ‘unity amongst coworkers and their loved ones’ or some bull like that. It’s really another way to kiss up to Mutou by bringing in the best tasting dish. His wife must be out of town and he doesn’t feel like cooking for himself.

 

Sakuma scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, of course I’m coming, sir.”

 

“And you’re bringing your. . .boyfriend, correct?” It’s not that Mutou has anything against Sakuma’s preferred interest in men. It’s just no secret that Mutou hates Miyoshi’s guts and Miyoshi literally cannot go two seconds without somehow insulting Mutou if he is within hearing distance.

 

“Yes, and I promise you he will be on his best behavior.”

 

Mutou grunts again. Yeah, Sakuma doesn’t believe himself either.

 

“Then I’ll see you and your. . .boyfriend. . .on Saturday,” Mutou says with a tilt of his head and continues on his way before Sakuma can even respond back. Sakuma watches the man depart then looks back at the lamps that are on his left. He just grabs one without even really looking at the design of it, heaving it up and dropping it in the basket before he makes his way back to Miyoshi.

 

He probably doesn’t _have_ to bring Miyoshi. He can just say that he’s sick and it’ll make Mutou’s night a whole lot bearable and Sakuma won’t be worrying about Miyoshi saying something that’ll make Mutou fire him out of spite. Miyoshi hates potlucks anyways. He moreso prefers mixers or just hanging out with their usual group of friends at the bar or over a table of poker. Miyoshi wouldn’t want to go anyways, there’s no need to be nervous about his reaction when he brings it up.

 

Sakuma nods his head and smiles to himself. Yes, everything will be peachy-keen. Now all that he needs to do is find out what type of dish to bring.

 

He makes his way to the front of the lighting area where he left Miyoshi, only to find that Miyoshi is nowhere in sight. Sakuma blinks, then turns his lips in a frown. He couldn’t have already left the store without waiting to see what Sakuma got, could he? Sakuma begins to head for the checkstands, peering down the aisles of furniture and decorations and knock off goods that Miyoshi would cringe at.

 

He rounds the corner and passes by a selection of mirrors, finding Miyoshi standing in front of a full-body sized one. He’s turning around in a small circle, admiring himself from all angles that the mirror can provide. Of course.

 

“Miyoshi,” Sakuma begins, but Miyoshi raises his hand to stop him, pulling his sunglasses down so he can have a better look at himself.

 

“Sakuma-san. . .does this mirror look like it came from France?”

 

“What?”

 

“If you were a guest in our home that is spending the night and you used the bathroom in our bedroom to freshen up and just so happen to pass by this mirror, would you think that it is imported from France?”

 

Sakuma doesn’t understand what Miyoshi is getting at. He’s starting to get hungry and traffic is going to get annoying now that people are getting off of work.

 

“I don’t know. What do you think of this lamp?” Sakuma asks.

 

“This can go by the dresser, can’t it? The wood design matches the curtains-”

 

“Miyoshi, why do we need a _mirror_? There’s a mirror in the bathroom we use already,” Sakuma says exasperatedly. Miyoshi turns around again in the mirror, admiring his outfit that consists of skin tight jeans, fashionable boots, a designer shirt that costs more than probably half of this store’s contents, and a plaid hat his grandfather picked out for him in Italy.

 

“Isn’t it obvious? I want to watch myself when you fuck me.”

 

Sakuma makes a loud, startled noise. Then he quickly looks around to check that no one heard him scream _or_ Miyoshi’s blunt statement. Miyoshi is still admiring himself, unfazed by Sakuma being Sakuma, and fixes up the collar of his shirt.

 

“I-we- _no_ -we’re not investing in a mirror for _that_ ,” Sakuma states. Even though it will probably be _really_ hot. Maybe even pushing Miyoshi up against it and-

 

No, no Sakuma does _not_ need to get a boner in public right now.

 

He snaps out of his wet daydream and grabs Miyoshi’s wrist, yanking his boyfriend away from the full body mirror to the basket and points at the lamp. “Do you like the lamp or not?”

 

“Eh? Sakuma-san doesn’t want to indulge in _my_ fantasies but I have to indulge in his?”

 

Sakuma frowns. Why is it becoming difficult to just get an opinion out of Miyoshi about this damn lamp?

 

“What are you talking about?” Sakuma says, oh-so-tired.

 

“You wanted to try roleplaying and changing up positions, but if I want to have sex in front of a mirror, you don’t want to do it?”

 

“That isn’t it. Those other two didn’t involve an investment and we don’t have any room-”

 

“So you _do_ admit you want to fuck me in front of a mirror?” Miyoshi asks with a coy grin.

 

“I admit that I want you to give me your opinion of this lamp so we can go home,” Sakuma deadpans. _And also fuck you in front of a mirror_ , Sakuma thinks.

 

Miyoshi looks at the lamp and hums, examining the box and the artwork on the side. “. . .It’s not bad. . .how come we can’t do something kinky that I want to try?”

 

“ _Miyoshi_ , I’ll indulge in your fantasies later when I have the money to buy this,” Sakuma pauses and goes over to the mirror to look at the price tag. His eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets. “200,000 yen?! What, is this mirror a portal to another world?! I thought this was a bargain store!” Sakuma exclaims. This is false advertising!

 

Miyoshi goes up beside him and hums. “Yeah, that’s why I like it so much.”

 

“Do you think I’m made of money or something?”

 

“I know you’re made of stubborn-yet-sweet boyfriend material,” Miyoshi quips with a smile and Sakuma huffs. Miyoshi leans up and gives a little kiss to the cleft of Sakuma’s chin and laces his fingers with Sakuma’s. “Come on, let’s get out of this place. I feel like I deserve ice cream for being dragged around here,” Miyoshi comments, pulling Sakuma along as Sakuma grabs the basket and pulls it behind him.

 

“You can be such a handful,” Sakuma says with a sigh. Miyoshi looks over his shoulder at him and bats his eyes. Sakuma feels his resolve melt away in a flash.

 

“It’s why you love me so much, Sa-ku-ma-san,” Miyoshi purrs.

 

It is.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a Saturday morning and one of the lucky days where both of them are off from work. Course, Sakuma just wants to spend now snuggling into Miyoshi’s hair and pulling more of his body against his chest. Miyoshi fits so nicely against him, like they’re both pieces of a puzzle that fit just right. The morning sun warms his back and his lips brush the shell of Miyoshi’s ear, feeling Miyoshi shift in his arms just a bit.

 

Sakuma hums and his hand strokes up and down Miyoshi’s leg, rubbing his thumb into Miyoshi’s hipbone. He moves his lips down to kiss in the nape of Miyoshi’s neck. “Morning,” he murmurs into Miyoshi’s skin, groggy and not yet awake.

 

“Good morning,” Miyoshi says. He sounds more alert, but Sakuma doesn’t think too much of it. Miyoshi always has been a light sleeper; it wouldn’t surprise him if Miyoshi had been awake but allowed Sakuma to just hold him and snuggle with him like he’s a teddy bear.

 

Sakuma kisses Miyoshi’s neck again, then his hair and then his ear and back down again. Miyoshi squirms in his grasp. “Hey hey, stop it,” Miyoshi scolds and Sakuma hums, nipping at his bare shoulder.

 

“We have the entire day to ourselves. . .what do you want to do?” Sakuma asks into Miyoshi’s skin. He’s all for a lazy Saturday with his boyfriend. They can go to the café or go out to breakfast if Miyoshi wants. Maybe even the park and relaxing underneath a shady tree-

 

“Well, we have to cook something for that annoying boss of yours for the potluck so I need to look for some recipes that are extremely spicy and painful to eat,” Miyoshi strategizes and Sakuma tenses.

 

“. . .Huh?”

 

“Did you forget that you accepted an invitation for the both of us to go or are you still asleep?” Miyoshi asks. He can definitely hear an annoyed tone in Miyoshi’s voice and Sakuma mentally prepares himself for what’s to happen next.

 

“. . .How did you find out?” Since Miyoshi now turns in Sakuma’s arms to glare at him, Sakuma believes that might not have been the best question to start with.

 

“Hatano texted me to ask what were we bringing,” Miyoshi explains and Sakuma blinks. Hatano is going? That’s a first, seeing as though Hatano always found a last minute excuse to _not_ go. Sakuma pouts and pulls Miyoshi against him, who struggles against his chest and is too irritated to cuddle.

 

“I thought you wouldn’t want to go, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Sakuma says into Miyoshi’s hair, kissing his locks.

 

“It wouldn’t have hurt for you to ask me.”

 

“Why? So we can go through the motions of arguing back and forth, you taking a vow to never do something for me if I force you to go, and then you end up coming anyways because you like to make Mutou’s blood pressure rise?”

 

“Exactly. You know I love debating with you, Sakuma-san,” Miyoshi says and kisses the tip of Sakuma’s nose. Sakuma assumes that Miyoshi isn’t angry with him anymore and tries to pull him up against his body once again. Miyoshi pulls away and Sakuma huffs in annoyance. Quit giving him mixed signals here! He just wants a decent morning cuddle before he faces the inevitably annoying evening.

 

“I really don’t want you causing trouble like you always do, Miyoshi,” Sakuma says sternly and Miyoshi glares up at him.

 

“Do you think it’ll be a burden if I went?”

 

“Not a burden, but I know that you’ll find it very unpleasant and I’d much rather avoid problems for the night,” Sakuma says. It’s reasonable, isn’t it? Sakuma already has to spend at least four hours of making idle chit chat with some co-workers he has never bothered to interact with in the presence of his boss. He’d much rather do that without having to worry about Miyoshi stepping on anybody’s toes.

 

Miyoshi frowns at him. “So I’m a troublemaker?”

 

“You’re an instigator.”

 

Miyoshi tries to push Sakuma off the bed with his foot, but he remains firm. He forgoes the plan of a morning cuddle and wraps strong arms around Miyoshi’s midsection, throwing himself over Miyoshi’s body to hold him still so he can listen to what Sakuma has to say. “Listen, you and I both know how much you get under Mutou’s skin and vice versa. Wouldn’t it be better for you to just. . .not show up?”

 

“And let you show up to the party alone where those vultures you call ‘co-workers’ can swarm you since I’m not around? Even when you told them you were gay at that last party, they still entertain the thought in their deluded little minds that you just haven’t met the _right_ woman and can change,” Miyoshi says disdainfully. He meekly shoves at Sakuma’s chest, but he doesn’t budge. Sakuma knows that Miyoshi is a lot stronger than he lets on and could have easily thrown him off the bed by now if he really wanted to get up. He must like the feel of being underneath Sakuma as much as Sakuma loves Miyoshi beneath him.

 

“You don’t need to worry about me going astray. I love you,” Sakuma murmurs. He kisses Miyoshi on the lips to prove his point, rubbing his cheek against Miyoshi’s like some affectionate cat. Miyoshi turns his head away from Sakuma’s scruff scratching at his chin and scoffs.

 

“That, and I’ll kill you if you _ever_ cheat on me.”

 

Sakuma knows that Miyoshi actually _will_ follow up on that promise if it happens. He’ll make it look like an accident too.

 

Sakuma buries his face back in Miyoshi’s neck, licking along his pulse point and sucking on his clavicle. Miyoshi makes a pathetic attempt to shove Sakuma away, but how he gives a breathy whine behind his clenched lips and slowly hooks his leg around Sakuma’s waist, he’s liking what Sakuma is doing.

 

“Are you trying to make me forget all about Mutou in exchange for something else, Sakuma-san?” Miyoshi asks and barely keeps his yelp to himself when Sakuma rubs through Miyoshi’s loose shirt at a pert nipple. He pinches Sakuma in the arm and Sakuma chuckles at Miyoshi’s face, embarrassed and red at having his weak spot exploited.

 

“Maybe? Is it working?” Sakuma asks coyly and Miyoshi turns his nose upwards.

 

“Don’t know. You basically said your darling, beautiful boyfriend whom you allegedly love and adore and worship-”

 

“I don’t remember saying all of that just now,” Sakuma says and goes back to sucking on Miyoshi’s creamy skin. Miyoshi hits Sakuma in the head and bats him away from his neck.

 

“ _Point is_ , I’m offended you think so little of me that I can’t be expected to behave. Do you think I’m some sort of child?”

 

“Obviously not since you’re not that much younger than me.”

 

Miyoshi pinches Sakuma’s nose. “Aren’t you cheeky this morning?” he says and wraps his arms around Sakuma’s shoulders. “How about this? I promise that I’ll be on my best behavior at your potluck. And in return, you buy me that mirror.”

 

“Can’t you just act like a decent human being _without_ any incentive?”

 

“But I want the mirror and you’re supposed to get me what I _want_ ,” Miyoshi says and bats his eyelashes. Miyoshi’s thigh moves upwards in between Sakuma’s leg and not-so-innocently brushes against his groin. Sakuma’s breath hitches and Miyoshi smiles. “We can put it to use right away, can’t we?” he says against Sakuma’s ear, taking the lobe in between his teeth. Sakuma grunts, not really giving much of an answer and body acting on its own as he rolls his hips against Miyoshi’s thigh.

 

Miyoshi pulls on Sakuma’s shirt, frowning. “Deal?” he asks and Sakuma groans. He doesn’t want to talk any more, he just wants Miyoshi.

 

“Okay. Yeah. Okay, just-” Sakuma pushes Miyoshi’s legs apart and kisses him firmly on the mouth, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. Miyoshi allows him to do so for a few seconds, then doesn’t proceed to hold back as he shoves Sakuma over to the other side of the bed and gets up. Sakuma rolls over to his side, watching as Miyoshi gets out of bed and stretches his arms over his head.

 

“Alright, time to call Fuku-chan for some suggestions on what to make.”

 

“Can’t we worry about that later?” Sakuma asks and reaches out to pull Miyoshi back into bed and back to what they were doing. Miyoshi steps away as soon as Sakuma’s fingers brush against his wrist. Sakuma wants to scream.

 

“I probably have to go to the market to get the ingredients too. No way am I going to use my quality ingredients for someone else’s mouth,” Miyoshi says, ignoring Sakuma that is begging with his hands and his body to just _cuddle_ with him. Or at least take care of the morning wood in Sakuma’s boxers that Miyoshi helped along by being so damn alluring to Sakuma’s mind at 8 in the morning.

 

Miyoshi walks to the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for the day. Which means Sakuma will probably not see his boyfriend or be able to use the bathroom until noon. Sakuma rolls onto his back and rubs his face, groaning into his palm as his other hand snakes into his boxers for some quick relief.

 

* * *

 

Mutou’s home is immaculate and unfairly large for just him and his wife. Sakuma listens to Miyoshi complain about how come they’re living in an upscale (and expensive) apartment downtown instead of having a large Western-style house to call their own, while he holds a pot of curry that is so spicy that just _smelling_ it is making his eyes water.

 

Once Miyoshi is done insulting the paint job of the house and he checks his appearance in Sakuma’s side view mirror twelve times, Miyoshi hooks his arm around Sakuma’s and places on a pleasant smile.

 

“Well, let’s go,” he says and Sakuma nods his head. Both traverse the long walkway up to the front porch and Miyoshi knocks, commenting on the porch decorations while they wait for someone to open it. After a few seconds, a woman opens the door and invites them both in.

 

Sakuma recognizes her as the girl that usually works in the coffee shop that’s attached to the bookstore. Her name escapes him and he feels rather bad that he can’t think of it when she greets him with a pleasant smile and ‘nice to see you’re here, Sakuma-san!’, but she immediately departs when another co-worker drags her away to gossip with the others.

 

“Large turnout,” Miyoshi says, checking the room beside them that is filled with people chatting amongst themselves, and begins to scrutinize the lamp near the door. Sakuma pulls him away before he can make a comment and into the dining room where the foods are all splayed out on the table.

 

There’s a range of sweets and traditional dishes, sandwiches and already prepared dishes that were bought from the store. There’s also bags of chips and other lazy contributions that were most likely picked up on the way to the potluck. Sakuma is certain those cheap looking cookies are from Hatano.

 

He places the pot of curry besides a meat platter and Miyoshi sets down some rice to go along with it. He scans over the food and rubs his chin, before he reaches for some finger sandwiches and turns the food around.

 

“This looks like it’s actually decent,” Miyoshi comments and takes a bite. He nods his head in approval, then takes a sandwich for Sakuma to try. Sakuma does so and he hums at the flavors bursting on his tongue. There’s a sort of tangy and sweet dressing that is in between the meats and cheeses that really makes Sakuma’s mouth water, and the bread is crisp and fresh. These definitely weren’t bought in a store; he didn’t even know sandwiches could taste _this_ good.

 

“So you two finally showed up.”

 

Both turn to see Hatano standing behind them, glass of punch in one hand and an expression on his face that begs for someone to just shoot him so he can leave this fucking party already. Beside him is. . .a foreigner, possibly just a few years older than him and looking like he’s actually enjoying himself amongst all the bitter co-workers and petty gossip flying around.

 

“Ah, Hatano. Who is this?” Sakuma asks and the young man bows his head respectfully.

 

“Alain Lernier. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says and Sakuma blinks. He wasn’t expecting to actually be able to understand him. Hatano’s eyes immediately find interest with the floor.

 

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you. Your Japanese is very good,” Sakuma compliments and Alain smiles, nudging his elbow against Hatano’s shoulder.

 

“I got Ryu to teach me in exchange for helping him with French. Fair trade, right?” he says with a joking smile. Hatano scowls and Sakuma faintly sees pink tinting across the bridge of Hatano’s nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Miyoshi’s expression change from mild interest to that of a fox about to swallow a rabbit whole.

 

“Ooh, so you two go to the same college?” Miyoshi inquires and Alain nods his head.

 

“I’m currently in a foreign exchange program and studying literature. We were originally going to study today, but I thought that this would be a lot more fun. I never got to meet Ryu’s co-workers before. The ladies here are very nice!”

 

Hatano looks like he wants to vomit and begins to shift from left to right. Something creeps up in Sakuma’s chest that feels like. . .justice.

 

“I bet they are. Did you bring anything, Alain-san?” Miyoshi asks oh so pleasantly. Hatano twitches.

 

“Ah, yeah! You two are actually eating sandwiches Ryu and I made!”

 

The absolute shock that Hatano actually put in effort and contributed a dish that _isn’t_ store-bought must have been very obvious on Sakuma’s face, since Hatano glares at him and Alain begins to laugh. “Ryu and I put in a lot of work making those sandwiches. I used my grandmother’s secret recipe to make the dressing. What do you think?”

 

“They taste great. It’s a good thing you took on those cooking lessons from Fukumoto-san, huh Hatano? Of course, you had other reasons for-” Miyoshi begins and Hatano jumps.

 

“A-Alain!” Hatano stammers out and Alain turns to look over at him, eyebrows quirked. “Ah-you-could you just. . .it’s cold in here, can you get my jacket? I left it in your car,” Hatano manages to say. Alain blinks, then rubs the back of his neck.

 

“Uh, sure?” he says and tilts his head towards Sakuma and Miyoshi. “Excuse me,” he says and turns on his heel, departing out of the kitchen and to the front door. As soon as Alain is out of earshot, Hatano whirs towards Sakuma and Miyoshi with the deadliest of expressions. Miyoshi snickers behind his hand.

 

“So not only are you on a first name basis, but he even has a cute nickname for you,” Miyoshi points out and Hatano bites his tongue, growling in annoyance. “Does this mean that your little puppy crush on Fuku-chan is over and done with? Has he met him?”

 

“W-Who cares if he met him?! And I never had a crush on him, that’s just you and Amari saying stupid shit!”

 

“Your boyfriend is really nice, Hatano,” Sakuma says, trying to dispel the situation before Hatano just decides to bodyslam Miyoshi and wipe that smug grin off his face. Instead, Hatano turns to Sakuma with a look that says he’d rather bodyslam _him_.

 

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend!” Hatano snaps and Miyoshi smiles.

 

“Oh, so you haven’t confessed yet? Do you need Amari to give you advice?”

 

“God, if it wasn’t annoying already with those cougars in there pawing at him, _you_ show up.”

 

“You asked me if I was coming. Who am I to deprive you of my presence?” Miyoshi asks. Hatano grits his teeth.

 

“I just wanted to know if Sakuma-san was coming. Figured that if anyone is going to have those obnoxious women slobbering over them, it should be him,” Hatano mumbles and Miyoshi cocks his head, turning his nose upwards.

 

“So you’d rather just _me_ fight with people looking at my boyfriend instead of you?”

 

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend.”

 

Sakuma finds that Hatano is actually rather adorable when he blushes and is knocked down a few pegs. He wonders what Miyoshi would be like, red in the face and pout on his lips as he gets more and more flustered. He lets out a small sigh; another fantasy of Miyoshi that can only be entertained in his mind. Next to the one that is needy and vocal in bed.

 

Miyoshi hums and checks his watch. “Hmm, it’s taking a rather long time for Alain to come back with your jacket. I hope none of those cougars followed your boyfriend outside-”

 

Hatano is already running out of the kitchen faster than Miyoshi can complete the sentence. Sakuma pinches at Miyoshi’s wrist, frowning.

 

“Oi, I thought I told you to behave,” Sakuma scolds and Miyoshi huffs.

 

“It’s just Hatano. He’ll get over it. Come on, let’s snoop around and see what stuff Mutou has,” Miyoshi says, tugging on Sakuma’s arm. Sakuma rolls his eyes, but allows his boyfriend to pull him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. They barely get halfway up the staircase when they hear someone clear their throat obnoxiously loud.

 

Mutou is standing behind them, glaring moreso at Miyoshi than Sakuma. He’s already got a full plate of food and Sakuma doesn’t see the volcano curry anywhere amongst all the barbeque and desserts. Which means that Mutou isn’t here to chew them out over bringing such an inedible dish.

 

“Upstairs is off limits. There’s a bathroom downstairs if you need to use it,” Mutou states and Sakuma swallows down a lump in his throat. He quickly nods his head and begins to try and step back down the stairs, but Miyoshi’s hand winds its way into the back of his shirt and yanks him back.

 

“There’s someone already in the bathroom. Plus, Sakuma isn’t feeling too good and I don’t want to make a scene. We won’t be long, just need a wet towel or so,” Miyoshi says without hesitation. Mutou frowns, looking up and down at Sakuma’s figure.

 

“He looks fine to me.”

 

“Well of course _you_ don’t notice. I’m his boyfriend, I know if something is off,” Miyoshi says and places a hand in Sakuma’s hair. His fingers thread through gently, giving a little tug. “Ne, come on,” Miyoshi purrs and it’s like his voice is a hypnotic spell that pulls Sakuma in more and makes him turn back to follow Miyoshi up the stairs.

 

He hears Mutou sputter out something and try to yell at them to come back, but Sakuma hears something fall and shatter on the floor in the kitchen, followed by ‘Jeez, Akutsu are you _always_ like this when you’re drunk?’. Mutou scampers away and Miyoshi continues to pull Sakuma up the stairs and into the hallway, opening up the cupboards to peek at their linens.

 

“Such ugly blankets,” he comments and Sakuma closes the cupboard.

 

“Shouldn’t we be downstairs talking with the others? That was a part of the deal,” Sakuma replies and Miyoshi smiles.

 

“No, the deal was that I would be on my best behavior. And I believe that for me to be on my best behavior, I should not be subjugated to your stupid co-workers gawking over how charming you are,” Miyoshi says. Sakuma blinks, then scratches his cheek.

 

“I’m sure not _all_ of them are like that.”

 

“You’re unbearably naïve, Sakuma-san. You’re attractive, young, courteous and too nice to tell someone to back off,” Miyoshi says and opens up one of the doors that leads to the bedroom. He sighs. “Even their bed is bigger than ours,” he mutters and Sakuma closes the door.

 

“Our apartment is a good size for us. What would we need a house this big for?” Sakuma asks and Miyoshi bites the inside of his cheek.

 

“What if I want a dog?”

 

“You mean like the non-existent one that ate my tie?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“I don’t know, maybe we’d move. But we still wouldn’t get a big house like this,” Sakuma says and glances around. “Maybe if we had a baby or something, I’d consider it,” he mutters and Miyoshi clicks his tongue, scowling. “I thought you liked Emma-chan and the boys,” Sakuma says with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I do. I like them even more because they’re not mine,” Miyoshi says and opens another door that leads to the upstairs bathroom. It’s way bigger than their one bathroom in their bedroom. It looks rather Western style as well since the large bathtub also has a shower faucet and there’s enough room for there to be a toilet and a large bathroom countertop with a vanity mirror.

 

Miyoshi sighs and rests his elbows on the marble countertop of the sink. “We’ve been in that apartment for two years. I don’t know. . .I think I would like a house to call my own. All the money we spent on paying rent for it, we could have paid most of the mortgage off of a nice house that’s not too far from the train station," he murmurs.

 

Sakuma enters and closes the bathroom door behind him, going over to wrap arms around Miyoshi’s midsection and pull him up against his back.

 

“Are you serious about wanting to move? Or is this one of your jealous impulse decisions?” Sakuma asks and Miyoshi turns his head upwards to look in Sakuma’s eyes with a frown on his lips. Sakuma kisses the tip of Miyoshi’s nose without really thinking about it. It’s too cute to _not_ kiss.

 

“You make me sound like I’m so irrational for wanting a nice house,” Miyoshi spits and Sakuma kisses the crown of his head.

 

“Not that. Just if you’re serious, then we’ll go look at some small houses that are in our price range next time that I’m off,” Sakuma says. Miyoshi blinks and Sakuma saves this expression in the back of his mind as another one of ‘Miyoshi’s rare dumbfounded faces’.

 

“You’ll consider moving?”

 

“If you want. I don’t think we need to, but if you really believe we’d be better off investing in a house instead-” Miyoshi turns in Sakuma’s grasp and wraps his arms around Sakuma’s shoulders, leaning up to kiss him slow and languid. Sakuma groans and licks into Miyoshi’s mouth, deepening the kiss as he presses Miyoshi more up against the counter. Miyoshi’s hands tangle into Sakuma’s hair and gives it a short tug, whimpering just a little when he feels Sakuma’s hands brush up and holds the back of his head.

 

Miyoshi pulls back, tugging on Sakuma’s lower lip with his teeth before he gives it a kitten lick and kisses his jaw. “Sakuma-san, you’re hard,” he says into his skin and Sakuma tenses. He got a boner by just making out with Miyoshi? What is he, a high school boy?!?!?

 

“A-Ah, sorry-” Sakuma stammers out and tries to pull away, but Miyoshi holds him firm, his hand inching down Sakuma’s stomach.

 

“It’s okay. I know how eager you can get,” Miyoshi purrs and Sakuma jumps when he feels Miyoshi grope him firmly through his jeans. Sakuma grabs Miyoshi’s wrist, eyes blown wide.

 

“Not here. Are you _crazy?_ ”

 

“Well you can’t go back down there like this. They’ll be talking about you for months,” Miyoshi quips. He tries to make a grab for Sakuma’s dick with his other hand, but Sakuma grabs that wrist as well and holds both of Miyoshi’s hands high above his head.

 

“They’ll also be talking about how a co-worker got fired for having sex in the bathroom of his boss’s home during a company potluck. They’ll tell this story to new hires. We’re _not_ doing this,” Sakuma states firmly and Miyoshi raises his leg that has somehow manage to sneak in between Sakuma’s legs. His thigh presses against Sakuma’s groin and he flinches.

 

“No one is going to find us. And I won’t tell if you won’t,” Miyoshi says and lowers his leg, pressing his entire body against Sakuma. Sakuma’s slip on Miyoshi’s wrists loosens and Miyoshi pushes all of himself into Sakuma. Sakuma stumbles back and grabs Miyoshi, stumbling and falling backwards into the bathtub.

 

Everything that was neatly placed along the side and hanging from the shower is now either all over the floor and the bathrug, or all over Sakuma and Miyoshi. Sakuma tries to keep his yell of pain as silent as possible, so he spends a few seconds whisper screaming before he just slams his hand over his mouth to muffle any louder noise. Miyoshi winces and tries to get out of the awkward position, leaning up and pulling both of his legs into the bathtub so now he’s sitting on Sakuma’s lap.

 

It only makes Sakuma’s boner _worse_.

 

“Are you okay?” Miyoshi asks and Sakuma breathes in deeply, pulling his hand away from his mouth and forcing himself into a more comfortable seating position with Miyoshi on his lap.

 

“What if Mutou heard us?!” Sakuma hisses and Miyoshi rubs his neck.

 

“I didn’t know you were going to stumble like that.”

 

“Of course I would! With you. . .grabbing me like that and looking so. . .” Sakuma knows his words are failing him right now, because Miyoshi has his head cocked to the side and an eyebrow raised. His lips are turned not into a pout and not into a knowing smile, but they still look so kissable and soft. Sakuma thinks that this is rather unfair what kind of hold Miyoshi has on him without knowing it. Or rather, he knows about it and exploits it and Sakuma gleefully falls for his charms every single damn time.

 

Sakuma leans up and kisses Miyoshi’s jugular and Miyoshi pushes Sakuma away, irritated. “Make up your mind. Are you going to fuck me in here or not?” he snaps. Sakuma blinks, then glances down at their clothes.

  
“We’ll get our clothes dirty,” Sakuma says and Miyoshi rolls his eyes.

 

“Something simple then,” he says and rolls his hips. Sakuma grabs Miyoshi firmly out of impulse and holds him still, lip pulled tightly between his teeth. Miyoshi hums. “I could give you a blowjob,” he muses, running his hands over Sakuma’s broad chest.

 

“What about you?” he asks and Miyoshi cocks his head to the side. He looks up at the small light in the bathroom above them, before he gets up and climbs out of the bathtub.

 

“Get out and lie on the floor,” he says, unbuckling his jeans. Sakuma blinks, then does as Miyoshi says and climbs out of the bathtub as well. He gets on the ground and lies on his back, watching as Miyoshi kicks off his jeans and goes to the bathroom door to put the lock on. He saunters back over, a sexy sway in his hips and turns around, stepping over Sakuma and getting on his hands and knees.

 

Sakuma’s face goes red, sitting up just a bit as Miyoshi unzips him and fishes out his cock from the slip in his boxers. “Isn’t this. . .can’t I just sit up and you do this?” he asks. Not that Sakuma doesn’t like to have a great view of Miyoshi’s behind, but he also likes to watch Miyoshi’s face when he sucks him off. This position doesn’t fulfill that enjoyment.

 

Miyoshi gives a little kitten lick against Sakuma’s slit and Sakuma slams his head back down on the tile, groaning in both pleasure and pain.

 

“If we somehow manage to get caught, I think this position is sexier. It will make for a better story,” he mouths against Sakuma’s head, dragging his tongue alongside a vein. Sakuma wraps his arms around Miyoshi’s midsection.

 

“Don’t say stuff like that,” he grumbles. Miyoshi latches his mouth around Sakuma’s cock in response and Sakuma promptly shuts up.

 

He feels Miyoshi’s back arch and his legs spread wider to get more comfortable. Miyoshi’s thighs tremble and Sakuma leans up just enough to drag his tongue against the inner part of Miyoshi’s left thigh. Miyoshi shakes more in his hold and it seems like he only sucks Sakuma harder, clearly aroused. He feels Miyoshi’s tongue flatten against his shaft and feels Miyoshi’s hand cup at his balls, rolling them in his warm and soft palm.

 

There isn’t really much to do in this position, Sakuma thinks. He can’t hold Miyoshi’s hair or cup his cheek. He can’t even reach for his own dick without leaning up and shoving Miyoshi off. How can people find this position enjoyable? It’s rather hard for Sakuma to brood about it when Miyoshi’s tongue slides up like that, slick and wet and _ohsogood_. But he wants to _watch_.

 

Sakuma’s hands gently rub against Miyoshi’s hipbone. “Hey, let me sit up.”

 

“No,” Miyoshi says, giving Sakuma’s cock a couple of jerks. Sakuma’s stomach tightens and he groans. No, he can’t come already. They’ve barely started. _Why_ is he being so eager now? Is it because they’re in someone else’s home and there’s the possibility of them getting caught? Actually, _that_ only makes him want to finish this faster. But if Miyoshi catches on to that, he’ll drag it out as long as he can and Sakuma doesn’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

 

“Come on, I want to watch you,” Sakuma shudders out as Miyoshi dives his head back down and brings it back up again.

 

“Sakuma-san is so perverted~” Miyoshi coos and wraps his lips around Sakuma’s girth once more, scraping his teeth against his leaking head. Sakuma jolts and moans, feeling his stomach tightening again as Miyoshi digs his nails into his thighs. He sees Miyoshi’s own member straining against his boxer briefs and a wet spot beginning to form and Sakuma bites his lower lip.

 

His hands move from Miyoshi’s hips to the waistband of Miyoshi’s underwear, tugging the fabric down as much as he can. Miyoshi’s cock springs out and his ass is now on display for Sakuma’s eyes only, silky smooth skin and asshole pink and fluttering. Sakuma blinks, then takes his hands and grips at Miyoshi’s behind. He never tried this before. Amari has told him about this (and Sakuma _really_ didn’t want to know) and he _did_ look into it when he was doing his research on positions. . .

 

Sakuma pulls Miyoshi’s hips flush against his stomach and licks a broad stripe over Miyoshi’s entrance. Miyoshi instantly tenses in his hold and Sakuma hears a pathetic choking noise.

 

“W-What are you doing?” Miyoshi stammers out and Sakuma hums, nipping at Miyoshi’s thighs.

 

“Nothing,” he says and runs his tongue around the rim of Miyoshi’s entrance again. Miyoshi makes this weird noise and Sakuma immediately files it away in his mind. He also notes that Miyoshi is now squeezing his cock so hard that it feels like he’s going to yank it off.

 

Sakuma’s tongue licks and circles around the ring of muscle, the tip of his tongue sometimes managing to press through into Miyoshi’s tight heat. When he does so, he feels Miyoshi’s hand tighten around him and feels teeth dig into his jean-covered thigh. Sakuma winces when Miyoshi does that, but figures Miyoshi biting his thighs is ten times better than accidentally biting his dick off.

 

“Does it feel good?” Sakuma asks and seals his lips around Miyoshi’s rim, giving it a soft suck. There’s a loud boom sound that follows and Sakuma guesses that it’s Miyoshi’s fist connecting with the bathroom’s floor. That probably means ‘yes’.

 

He shifts upwards a bit so his back is leaning up against the side of the bathtub. Miyoshi’s body slumps against him and his legs are hanging half over Sakuma’s shoulders and dangle in the tub. It’s an awkward position, but Sakuma is able to move his tongue inside Miyoshi deeper at this angle. He bites at his cheeks and nips at his thighs before he dives back in to lick around the rim once more. Miyoshi sometimes licks against Sakuma’s cock that is in his death grip, but he immediately goes back to trying to muffle his keens and his whines by biting at his knuckles or Sakuma’s thigh.

 

Sakuma lets his eyes glaze over the expanse of Miyoshi’s skin and pulls back, watching as Miyoshi’s hole tightens around nothing, shiny and wet. His gaze moves upwards and he pauses when he notices what is hanging on the locked bathroom door.

 

A full size mirror.

 

Sakuma’s mind gets filled with different thoughts and emotions. One thought is ‘ _is **this** the reason you wanted to get into this position??_’ which gets followed by the thought that Miyoshi was watching himself give Sakuma head and if _that_ isn’t the hottest thing in the world. Then he sees Miyoshi’s face in the mirror, all flushed and sweating and mouth wet with spit. His hand is still gripping Sakuma’s cock and his eyes are glassy as he brings his face up to look at Sakuma in the mirror.

 

“Why’d you stop?” Miyoshi slurs and Sakuma shakes his head. He leans back to lick against Miyoshi again, but his eyes stay focused on their reflections. Miyoshi’s face goes back down to Sakuma’s thigh and Sakuma can feel Miyoshi panting hard against him. Miyoshi’s other hand is tangling fingers into the bath rug while he jerks Sakuma in an unsynchronized rhythm. He sometimes feels Miyoshi’s hips move to fuck himself back on Sakuma’s tongue, but it’s in stuttered movements as if Miyoshi can’t make up his mind or can’t stop his body from moving on its own.

 

Actually, Sakuma wants this to go on forever. Fuck it if someone catches them.

 

He feels Miyoshi’s hot breath on his cock and watches as Miyoshi latches his lips around his leaking head. Miyoshi’s eyes are closed and his lips are wet and stretched around Sakuma’s cock, trying to swallow down as much as he can. He feels Miyoshi moaning and whimpering around him and Sakuma feels his eyes rolling back as he feels his orgasm coil in his stomach.

 

He comes in Miyoshi’s mouth and growls into Miyoshi’s sopping entrance, breathing ragged and hard and sucking a hickey in the taught muscle of Miyoshi’s ass. Miyoshi’s body squirms in his hold and Sakuma feels Miyoshi release all over his chest and all over his shirt as he swallows Sakuma down his throat.

 

Well, so much for keeping their clothes clean. Why are they always ruining something during sex?

 

He hears Miyoshi strain to keep his cries quiet and the sound resonates in Miyoshi’s throat before his body goes slack and he awkwardly rolls off of Sakuma and onto the floor next to him. Miyoshi pants, wiping Sakuma’s come from his lips with a flushed face and sweaty bangs. Sakuma breathes in deeply as well, the stench in the bathroom sweaty and raunchy and _god_ , Sakuma hopes Mutou doesn’t come in here for a while.

 

He staggers to his feet and moves to open the small window that is just above the bathtub to let in some fresh air. Miyoshi sits up and grabs some toilet paper to clean himself up, then gets to his knees to pull his underwear back up and grabs his jeans.

 

“Sorry about your shirt,” Miyoshi says and Sakuma sighs, unbuttoning it and pulling it off of his shoulders.

 

“It’s alright. I’ll just be in my undershirt,” Sakuma says and balls his shirt into his hands. “Although I don’t know what kind of excuse I’ll use as to why I’m in my undershirt-”

 

“We’ll say one of your co-worker’s dishes gave you food poisoning and you threw up on yourself,” Miyoshi says simply. Sakuma frowns.

 

“I can’t say that,” he replies and Miyoshi steps into his jeans, tugging them onto his hips.

 

“It’s better than saying your boyfriend accidentally got his come on it. We’re leaving anyways, so we won’t be making small talk.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don’t want those vultures trying to undress you with their eyes any further,” Miyoshi says and Sakuma blinks, before a small smile flickers over his lips. He walks over and pulls Miyoshi into his arms.

 

“How can you still get jealous when we just had sex in Mutou’s bathroom?”

 

“It’s one of my very few flaws, I’m afraid to admit,” Miyoshi says and kisses Sakuma’s Adam’s apple. “Plus, now I know that you’re _very_ good at eating me out, I want to go home and ride your face.”

 

“How can you say stuff like that with such a straight face?” Sakuma asks incredulously and Miyoshi smiles, tapping his finger against Sakuma’s nose. Miyoshi turns and walks to the bathroom door, unlocking it and opening it slowly to check for anyone around. He looks back over his shoulder.

 

“Coast is clear,” he says and leaves, Sakuma following after him and closing the bathroom door shut. They quickly move down the stairs and Sakuma keeps his head down in hopes of avoiding a confrontation. The stench of their tryst still lingers in their clothes and Sakuma doesn’t even know how long they were up there.

 

The party seems to have died down just a bit. There’s people that are still here, but there isn’t as big of a crowd as there was when Sakuma and Miyoshi first arrived. He doesn’t see Mutou in the kitchen or in the living room with the others and Sakuma grows nervous at the possibility of Mutou catching them before they can get to the car.

 

Miyoshi gets to the front door and opens it, and Sakuma quickly rushes him out and closes it shut behind him. Miyoshi looks over his shoulder at Sakuma pushing him down the pathway, frowning.

 

“Do you mind letting me _walk_? Or are you that excited about me sitting on your face?”

 

“It’s me being anxious about someone stopping us and _knowing_ what we did and _don’t say that stuff out loud_ ,” Sakuma snaps and Miyoshi rolls his eyes.

 

“Sakuma-san, _who_ is going to know?”

 

“Know what?”

 

Sakuma screams and jumps, turning to his right to see Alain and Hatano both standing on the sidewalk looking at them with confused expressions. Hatano’s eyes instantly goes to the shirt that’s balled up in Sakuma’s hands and he frowns. “What’s with your shirt?” he asks and Sakuma stands straight, eyes darting back and forth like he’s watching an invisible ping-pong match.

 

“Ah! It’s-well-I uh-nothing!”

 

“He spilled something on his shirt,” Miyoshi says and Hatano cocks his head to the side.

 

“Oh, Sakuma-san. You’re so clumsy. I guess Miyoshi-san is into that,” Hatano quips. Miyoshi frowns and Sakuma grabs hold of his arm.

 

“Right, well we’re leaving. I’ll see you at work, Hatano-” Sakuma says in one breath and tries to pull Miyoshi away before he starts something with Hatano.

 

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Alain asks and Hatano steps closer, peering his eyes at Sakuma’s face. Sakuma swallows down a lump in his throat and forces on a smile for Alain.

 

“A-Ah, yeah. I’m not feeling well so-”

 

“Why are you both so sweaty?” Hatano points out and Miyoshi pushes Hatano back a few feet.

 

“The curry I made is a little too spicy, if you needed to know,” Miyoshi says, annoyed.

 

“What are you trying to do? Poison everyone?” Hatano asks and Miyoshi clicks his tongue.

 

“Not all of us can make sandwiches like your boyfriend.”

 

“He’s _not my boyfriend!_ ” Hatano snaps. Alain gives a little chuckle and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. As he does so, the collar of his shirt slides back and Sakuma sees. . .a small hickey just above his collarbone.

 

. . .He doesn’t remember that being there when they met.

 

Miyoshi cocks his head to the side. “Hmm. Whatever you say. But if you don’t mind, we’d like to get home before it gets too dark,” he says, wrapping his arms around Sakuma’s bicep. He flashes a small smile at Alain. “It was nice to meet you, Alain-san,” Miyoshi says pleasantly and turns to Hatano. “By the way, your shirt’s on backwards.”

 

Sakuma has never seen Hatano go so red so quickly.

 

Miyoshi uses the time that Hatano is too flustered to make a witty comeback to drag Sakuma away to his car. Both climb in and Sakuma sees in his rear view mirror Alain trying to help Hatano out with his shirt, smiling and laughing while Hatano most likely curses him and Miyoshi out. Sakuma glances over to Miyoshi, who is trying to straighten his hair in his side-view mirror.

 

Miyoshi leans back and sighs, glancing over at Sakuma and smiles.

 

“That was a fun potluck, don’t you think?” he asks and Sakuma blinks, before he starts up the engine and pulls away from the curb.

 

He makes a mental note that if Mutou ever asks him about potlucks, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure that Miyoshi _never_ finds out.

 

He also starts counting on how many paychecks will he need to save in order to get that mirror for their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i used hatano's alias's first name, 'ryuunosuke' as his first name here.
> 
> i might write chapters here and there whenever i feel like it


End file.
